


The Order of Things

by Tails42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Not Canon Compliant, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 69
Words: 273,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27390898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tails42/pseuds/Tails42
Summary: You don't usually know what your purpose in life is. Sometimes you spend your whole life with no clear destination. That is not the case for Holly. After going through a grisly death, Holly is reincarnated. But instead of enjoying a second life, she decided that she was put into this world to save Fred Weasley.
Relationships: Adrian Pucey/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 106





	1. A Weasley Sandwich

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Order of Things

1

A Weasley Sandwich

I am the universe's practical joke to all of its occupants. Ironic, considering that in this life I was born on April 1st, 1978. I am the soul that died and somehow was placed back on Earth for a second go. I am the girl that shouldn't exist. The daughter that should have never been conceived. The character that had no intended role. And the punchline of it all, no one but me knows that I shouldn't be here.

"Jolly Holly," one of my brothers said in a sing-song voice as he came to sit next to me on the second-floor window seat. It faces the garden and gets the most natural light in the morning. I often have to fight Percy for the pleasure of reading here. Looking up from my book, I frown at Fred as he settles himself, and turn my head to give George the same frown. Their nickname for me, Jolly Holly, is a satire on their parts as I am rarely ever Jolly. George slides up to stand next to my side, effectively boxing me in the window seat. The lack of personal space doesn't bother me. Not with these two. We've been sharing personal space since our time in the womb. "Look what was just delivered". Fred said as George dangled a thick envelope with a familiar wax seal in front of my face.

I close my book and reach up to retrieve, what is no doubt, my letter from school containing all of the supplies I'll need for the year. But George yanks it away. Always making sure that it is just an inch out of reach. "George" I complain, sighing. This is a normal enough occurrence. Even if this behavior is usually more directed at Ronald than myself. In most situations, I would give them the rise they are looking for. Stamp my foot. Wrestle them for the silly letter. Chase them around the burrow for it until mum yelled at us to stop or dad intercepted. But I can't today. I'm just too tired. Too worried. I drop my arm that's reaching for the letter and let my head thump against the window sill. They can keep the bloody thing. We have all of the same classes, except for one elective, so we'll just share books like we always do. I close my eyes and try to ignore my fellow triplets as they no doubt share worrying looks over my head. I'm about to ruin their childhood, and they don't even know it.

George pokes me in the cheek with the index finger of his free hand, and I wearily open my eyes for him. "what's got you so bothered Holls?" He asked.

"Yeah sis" Fred throws his two cents in. "What's got your wand in a knot".

I glance out the window. I've been debating on who I should tell, or if I should tell anyone at all about me. About what I know. Divulging such information has too many unpredictable consequences. I could be thrown into St. Mungos as a mental patient. I could be marked as a vessel of evil magic and locked up in the department of mysteries. Or I could destroy the world as I know it to exist. But there could also be potential rewards for letting people know about my secret. It could prevent misfortune. I look away from the peaceful summer day and glance back at Fred. It could protect my new family and saves lives. I have been having this silent discussion with myself since I first realized exactly where I was. And an answer never becomes clearer. But, with the arrival of the latest Hogwarts letter, I have officially run out of time. "There is something I want to tell you". I said, looking at both boys in turn. "it's big" I add on. "It's something that should probably stay between the three of us".

Fred and George do not look terribly concerned. The three of us have a mountain of secrets tying us together. The mysterious disappearance of Percy's reading glasses. How exactly that garden gnome found its way into Charlie's trunk. Why mum can never find a lone sock's match. Or the reason why there's always a strange smell or puff of an explosion coming from Fred and George's room. But those secrets are all harmless. Mostly, I suppose. Ron and Percy would probably disagree. Still, what I want to tell my fellow triplets is something that no one should ever have to deal with. Especially not at thirteen years of age.

"George, this sounds bad" Fred breaks in. I look at him in suspicion. I think I am about to be exposed to another act of Fred and George improv.

"I was thinking the same thing, Fred," George said. Squatting down next to the two of us sitting on the window seat. "What could it be about I wonder?"

Fred leans forward, closer to George and I. "Girls problems I suspect"

"A romantic interest, possibly".

I look up at the ceiling and roll my eyes. When they start doing bits like this I've learned it's best to just ride it out. To protest would only encourage them, and then we would be here all day.

"Now, who do we know that our Holly could possibly like?" Fred continues. Acting as if I am not there.

"No one from Gryffindor" George chimes in.

"They all know not to mess with our Jolly Holly" Fred finishes for him as he leans forward to squish my cheeks with the palms of his hands.

I slap them away in indignation as George said, "What about Diggory? I've seen them eye each other before in the great hall."

I wrinkle my nose in confusion. Since when has Diggory ever stared at me? Now, I have been caught staring at Diggory a handful of times. Many of the girls in our year have done the same. But in my case, my interest is out of guilt. If I know someone is going to die and I don't do anything about it, am I guilty? "No," Fred said, shaking his head. "No, I don't think Diggory is Holly's type". Oh? Apparently, I have a type now.

"Right you are Fred. If Holly has her eyes set on a bloke-"

"Then our guess would be-"

"Pucey!" They said together.

Instantly I groan aloud. Not this again! Adrian Pucey is one of the many filler characters of Harry Potter. He is in the same year as Fred, George, and I are. He is in Slytherin house and plays as a chaser for his house team. Adrian has also been my potions partner for the past two years of school. We get along rather pleasantly for a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. And by that, I mean that we don't try to curse each other whenever we cross paths, and can actually hold an enjoyable conversation. All of those factors have made Adrian extremely unpopular with my triplets. "No!" I try to insert.

But Fred and George talk right over me. "They're always whispering together with their heads lowered in potions class," Said George.

"Because we're partners," I said, trying to be the sane person in our trio.

"And then there was that time they exchanged love letters in the hallway". Fred inserts his own antidote of what is supposedly my very sordid love affair.

"They were notes from class!" I correct, my voice increasing in volume.

"And it would make perfect sense that Holly would want to keep him a secret," George said, ignoring me.

Fred nods as if George had just discovered a very important clue. "Because very few would approve of a Weasley dating a Slytherin".

"I'm not dating Pucey!" I said as firmly as I possibly can when dealing with these two.

I'm ignored again. "But worry not Sister dear" Fred goes on to say. Lunging over to my side of the window seat to engulf me into a bone-crushing hug.

"We'll always love you" George adds on as he turns Fred's hug into a Weasley sandwich. I can feel the vein above my left eye starting to twitch. This is not how I envisioned this conversation starting out.

"Even if you do have horrid taste in men," Fred and George said in sync.

These gits. "I AM NOT DATING PUCEY!" I yelled, trying to shake the two of them off of me. They can never just let me control the conversation. They always find a way to spin it for their own entertainment.

A startled cough pulls our attention to the stairway. Charlie stands there with an arm full of books, looking at us as if we had just shouted out you-know-who's name at the top of our lungs. He's packing. In a couple of days' time, he will be on his way to Romania to start his exciting career with dragons. "I'm sorry," He said after a moment of just staring at the three of us in the midst of our very uncomfortable bear hug. "dating?" Charlie asked as if it was some type of terminal illness I had contracted.

Fred and George let me go in favor of flopping on the floor and laughing out loud. I shoot up from the window seat, causing my book to fall and hit George on the stomach. With my face burning, I hold my hands up for Charlie to see. As if I am suggesting that I have nothing to hide. Even though that couldn't be further than the truth. "I'm not dating," I said, trying to sound as earnest as possible. That's the problem with having so many brothers, the majority of them being older or the same age as you. And in a family, as tight-knit as the Weasleys, they all want to protect me and keep as far away from the opposite sex as they can. "I swear" I promise Charlie. The last thing I need this school year is for Charlie to sic Percy on me as some sort of chaperone. "I don't even think about boys in that way".

"Um," Charlie said slowly as he shifts the books in his arms. He looks down at his armload with a conflicted expression. When he looks back up at me, he asked very carefully, "In what way are you thinking about boys?"

That's sets George and Fred off on another round of hysterical laughter. Sometimes I wonder if they force themselves to laugh so loudly. "No," I said, waving my hands around. "I mean-" Charlie continues to look at me in fear. Merlin forbid his younger sister grows up to be intimate with someone. "I'm not planning to-" But I quickly stop as the remaining color drains from Charlie's face. "Oh, nevermind," I said, as I reached down to pull Fred and George up by the backs of their shirts. Still laughing with every other breath, I start to haul my fellow triplets in the direction of their room. "Come on" I mutter to them, as we push past a very uncomfortable looking Charlie, leaving my book and school letter on the floor by the window seat. I can come back for them later.

* * *

Fred and George managed to compose themselves by the time we make it to their room. I walk into the room first, trusting that one of them will close the door. With all the elicit experiments that go on in this room, Fred and George are big on privacy. "Are you ready to listen?" I asked them once I hear the door click into place. I turn on my heels to start pacing the length of their room. This is it. I am about to destroy any hope I had at having a normal life. Well, as normal as a life in the wizarding world can be.

"We're all ears, Jolly Holly," George said as he and Fred cupped their hands behind their ears in emphasis. They're trying to get me to smile. Usually, it would work too. But not today. Not when I am standing on an edge with unforeseeable depth.

"This will be easier if you don't interrupt me," I said as I continue to pace. "It's going to sound outlandish". It is outlandish, I correct in my head. "farfetched, unbelievable". I start to list, stalling for as long as I can.

Fred and George look at each other before they each sit on their individual beds. "Try us," they said at the same time, crossing their arms as if to say, 'bring it on'.

Nodding my head, I steel myself. It's just like ripping off a band-aid. I tell myself as I pause in my pacing and turn to face my brothers. "I'm not actually Holly Weasley". I said. Instantly I wished that I had started differently.

The boys exchanged another look. I can read the conversation they are having with their eyes. Is she playing a prank on us? Should we get mom? But they settle for saying in perfect harmony, "come again?"

I sigh and touched the bridge of my nose as I briefly close my eyes. I should have rehearsed this. But then I open my eyes and I'm off once more. "No. I mean I am Holly Weasley. But before we were born" I said, gesturing my arms at all three of us. "I was someone else. Someone else who died" my voice trails off as I pace to the end of their room; to the side with the window. My death is not something I like to think about. I turn around to walk back up the length of the room. "I died and then I was born again except this time I was Holly, your sister".

I pause again, this time to gauge my brothers' reactions. George is leaning forward on his bed. And Fred as an expression curiosity on his freckled face. They take my silence as permission to speak. "It's very rare, Holls," George said. "But it's not unheard of."

Fred nods in agreement. "There's been other witches and wizards who remember past lives. And we know it's possible thanks to phoenixes".

I turn away and run a hand through my ginger hair. "It's a lot more complicated than that," I said. Trying to decide how I should inform them that they, in my previous world, were fictional characters.

Fred snorts, drawing mine and George's attention to him. "What? It's not like you were you-know-who in your past life."

George barks a laugh at the thought, reclining back in his bed a little. But when I don't join in, or even retort he leans forward again. "Wait?" He starts to say, the question clear.

"No," I said firmly. The boys nod as if they knew it all along. "I can't be you-know-who reborn," I said, forcing myself to take a breath. "because you-know-who hasn't died yet". And then I'm talking faster than I ever have before. I mention J.K. Rowling and how I grew up in my last life reading the books about wizarding icon Harry potter. I tell them about how our family will end up being very important to Mr. Potter. How Ron would be his best friend. And everything I can think of in one go. I tell them about the philosopher's stone, the basilisk in the chamber, the innocent Sirius Black, the return of the dark lord, the trip our younger siblings will take to the department of mysteries, the death of Dumbledore, and how Harry Potter will save our world.

Fred and George hang on my every word. By the time I was done their eyes had grown to the size of saucers. A tense moment passes with the three of us just staring at each other. In the back of my mind, I seriously hoped that I hadn't broken them. But it is me who cracks first. Feeling lighter than I've ever felt before, but entirely too exhausted, I sink down onto the foot of George's bed. "You don't believe me," I said more to myself than them.

"What am I going to have for breakfast tomorrow?" Fred asked out of the blue.

I look at him and squint. "What?" I asked, utterly confused.

"Fred" George intercedes. "She was reincarnated. She's not a seer". Then George turns his attention back to me and asked an equally confusing question of his own. "What's your name?"

I squint my eyes at him this time. He knows my name. "Holly," I said slowly. Maybe with all of the information I dumped on him, I've forced him into a state of shock.

George shakes his head. "your name before you were our sister" he clarifies.

Oh. "Jessie" I mumbled. The name feels weird leaving my mouth. I haven't said it in thirteen some years.

"Do you want us to call you Jessie?" Fred asked, sounding a bit guarded.

"No" I answer quickly. I cannot imagine them calling me by any name other than my Weasley name. "Jessie's been dead for a long time". I force myself to look George and Fred in the eyes. "I am Holly" I try to assure them. "Jessie is just a bunch of memories at this point".

Fred nods once. "good".

"Good?" I asked.

"Yeah," Fred said. "the only thing that rhymes with Jessie is messy".

"And that's not nearly as fun to say as Jolly Holly" George concludes. I shake my head in disbelief. That's what they're focusing on? "Why tell us now, and not sooner?" George goes on to ask.

I purse my lips. "Ron starts school this year. Which means Harry will too. So…" I started to say.

But Fred cuts me off. "This is the year they'll be a three-headed dog guarding a stone at Hogwarts".

I nod to show that he is correct. "But why tell us at all?" George asked.

At that moment it feels like my heart stops. Like a band-aid, I remind myself as I shudder. "I don't know what's going to happen, not really. Because just me existing changes things. There is… was no Holly Weasley in the books. But if things do happen as they did in the books". I pause to take a labored breath. Crying a little, I reach out to grab both of Fred's hands in my own. They feel warm, and callused from too much quidditch. I give them a hard squeeze, too afraid to let them go. "then in about seven years from now, during the war, you're going to die protecting Percy". And there it was. The thing I was dreading the most out in the open.

Through our clasped hands I can feel Fred go limp as tears start to fall from my eyes in a flurry. George too had gone catatonic. I suppose, after learning of your own death, the next worse thing is to learn about your twin's death. Though I guess in this case, they aren't twins. I decide to push forward. It's the only thing I can do. "Me being here, me telling you all this might make the future worse. But I thought if I told you guys maybe we can… maybe we can stop it from happening. We can protect our family".

I barely get the last word out before Fred is kneeling in front of George's bed. He pulls me into his arms; crushing my ribs. "I'm not going to die," he said, his voice shaking but sounding none the less determined. George joins us, wrapping his arms around both of us.

"I'm not going to let him die," George said, sounding equally as shaken. What have I done? "I promise," they said together. I melt into my second Weasley sandwich of the day. I feel so relieved that I haven't lost them and hopefully, I never will. "We're going to have to come up with one hell of a plan". I said after a moment.


	2. Who is Holly Weasley?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Who is Holly Weasley?

In a spurt of multitasking, something that all mothers of large families are capable of, mum decides that we should do back to school shopping and Charlie’s farewell dinner on the same day. That way she would be able to get all of the ingredients she’d need for Charlie’s favorite meal, Charlie could buy anything that he needed before traveling abroad, and she’d have a second semi-responsible adult with her to try to keep the lot of us in line. Usually, that position falls to dad. But he has been pulling extra hours at the ministry as of late. Something to do with a cursed teapot praying on unsuspecting muggles. But I am not sure if that is entirely the truth. Dad always seems to pick up extra hours before the start of school. I can’t be easy sending five kids to boarding school and providing for one of them still at home. Though with Bill moved out and Charlie moving out, maybe dad can take a break soon.

The Weasley family convenes in front of the fireplace a little after noon. After a filling lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup mum is rearing to go. I stand at the very end of the line, with Ginny clinging to my school cloak. In a couple of years, this cloak will probably be handed down to her. “it’s not fair” She whined in a way only a ten-year-old can.

“What’s not fair?” I asked, trying to sound sympathetic. But it is a little hard when I already know the reason. Ginny leans into me, her face pressed against my arm. “you all get to go to Hogwarts. But I don’t”.

Oh, the woes of a ten-year-old girl. “We all waited until we were eleven to go to school” I reasoned. Ignoring Ginny scoffing at my response, I said “you can to”.

Next to Ginny stands George who is also next to Fred. They had made a quick recovery after yesterday’s grand reveal. I can tell because they are back to pestering Percy; throwing bits of rolled-up parchment at his back, and complimenting him on his new position as prefect as they called him things like; prefect Percy, mummy’s lil’ prefect, and brown-noser. That last one might be my fault. Charlie stands between the three of them; Fred and George on his left and Percy on his right. He’s trying to act as some sort of buffer but is having as much success as a gnome on degnoming day. He tries to tell Fred and George off while brushing the bits of parchment off of Percy’s cloaked back. Out of all my brothers, Charlie, by far, has the most patience. Merlin, bless him. Percy is taking this as well as can be expected. We all know he is annoyed by how often he adjusts and straightens his glasses. He responds to my triplets’ comments by retorting with; “you’re just jealous”, and “just wait until I put you in detention”. Unfortunately for him, it has the complete opposite effect on Fred and George that he was expecting. As each comment had Fred and George bursting into uproarious laughter.

Ron stands on the other side of Percy as the last in line. He is currently mum’s main focus as she tuts about. First, she straightens his home-spun cloak. A light blue one that used to belong to Percy. “Mum, it’s fine” Ron complains. But she ignores him in favor of trying to rub the ever-present dirt off of his nose. Ron squirms under her hands. “It’s fine mum!” He cries. “Leave it!”

Sighing, Mum backs off. Wiping her hands of it, as if the hygiene of an eleven-year-old boy is a lost cause. And in a way, it kind of is. “Alright,” she said, stepping back to eye all seven of us. Imagine what it must have been like for her to have all eight of us at home when we were all too young to go to school. The woman is a saint, I tell you. “We’ll go in pairs,” Mom said. “Ginny with me, Ron with Charlie, Fred with George, and Holly with Percy”.

I can feel clutching at my cloak tightly as she speaks up. “I want to go with Holly.” As the only girls of the Weasley Offspring, Ginny does tend to gravitate towards me. I don’t mind it. In Jessie’s life, I hadn’t been an older sister. But I always worried that I wasn’t a good role model for Ginny. In the books, she grew up to be pretty kick-ass and ends up playing professional quidditch. What if having an older sister makes her grow up soft?

Mum shakes her head. What Ginny doesn’t see is how much strategic planning Mum does when she pairs us off. Ginny and Ron are the youngest so they go with her and the eldest because she doesn’t trust the rest of us to watch them for long periods of time. To be fair, I did lose Ron once when the Wizarding Circus came into the nearby wizarding settlement. But he ran away from me! Anyway, that leaves us four middle children; Percy, Fred, George, and Me. Now, it is risky to allow Fred and George to be together. Everyone knows the chances of something nefarious happening on this shopping trip is highly likely. But the other option would be to place one of them with Percy, which would be more catastrophic. For Percy’s mental health it's better if is paired with me. I wouldn’t describe Percy as the sibling I am closest to. His prickly pear personality kind of makes that rather hard. Hands down, the siblings I gravitate to are my fellow triplets. However, Percy doesn’t get on my nerves either. He’s just a type-A personality. Someone to be humored when you must, and to be held at a distance whenever possible.

Mum walks over to Ginny and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her air. “Best come with me” She reasoned. “We need to get you fitted for a new dress,” She said.

Ginny becomes more agreeable at the promise of owning something new as she stops holding on to my school cloak. All of us, except for Bill, are very used to wearing hand-me-downs. But since I am the oldest girl, I get a few more first-hand things than the boys, such as skirts, dresses, and leggings. And Ginny tends to inherit what I outgrow. Which for the most part is fine. The only problem is that her style is drastically different than my own. Ginny likes vibrant colors. While I prefer darker shades. Ginny likes designs and patterns on her clothes. While I try to keep things as simple as possible. It has been my childhood goal to be as unnoticeable as possible. And when you share a birthday with Fred and George, that is not very hard to do. “We will meet at the Leaky Cauldron, let’s say 3:30” Mum said as she moved back over to Charlie. “That will give me enough time to cook dinner” She mumbles to herself as she pulls out a small coin purse and holds it out to Charlie. “Ron has his school list,” mum said, nodding to her youngest son. “He already has his cauldron and your old wand. I’m hemming some of Fred and George’s old robes for him. So, all you need to buy are potions ingredients and maybe a new copy of the standard book of spells grade one, and A History of Magic” Mum listed off. “Because someone decided to draw in hers,” Mum said, shooting me a look. Fred and George snigger at my expense, while I give Mum a sheepish look. I mean, wasn’t Binns already dead when she was a student? She should know what his class is like. Once the coin purse is in Charlie’s hand, Mum pats. “And buy whatever you need Charlie love. We don’t know what will be available in Romania”.

Charlie smiles at her. “It’s okay Mum. The reserve gave me an advance on my wages to help with the move”.

“Oh, such a good boy” Mum gushed as she moved on. Percy gets the next coin purse. “There’s enough in there for both you and Holly. Buy only what we don’t have at home. But Dad and I put in a little extra so you may buy a reward for becoming a prefect”.

Percy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his noses as he blushes. “Thanks, Mum,” he said as he took the coin purse from her and pockets it.

Mum nods, as proud as can be. “Oh,” she said as if she had just remembered. “Holly,” she said, turning towards me. “You need at least one new skirt for school, and stockings. I can’t keep patching them up. And make sure your skirt is at least knee-length”. I nod, trying not to roll my eyes. I remember a time when Jessie was an adult and no one could tell her what to wear. There were a lot of short skirts and tall boots in those memories. The last sibling to get a coin purse is George, who immediately places it in his trousers’ pocket as Mum list off his and Fred’s direction. “Just school supplies,” She said very firmly, wagging a finger at them. “Parchment, Quills, and potion ingredients. And don’t let me catch hide or hair of either of you near Knockturn alley”.

“Yes Mum,” said Fred and George as they grinned devilishly at Mum. It’s amazing Mum hasn’t gone completely gray yet due to dealing with these two.

* * *

Percy and I fall into step as we head off in the direction of the used clothing store. Every few steps, Percy throws a cautious look over his shoulder. We flooed into Diagon alley before Fred and George. So, there is a possibility that they could sneak up on us. Of course, I know that my fellow triplets want to get as many potion ingredients as they can for their experiments. So, they will be spending the majority of their time at the apothecary. It would be the kind thing to do to let Percy know about Fred and George’s plans. But I think I’ll keep them to myself. As a prefect it is important to keep Percy on his toes. Besides, if he knew Fred and George want loads of potion ingredients, He’ll ask why. And I don’t want to answer that. “Any idea on what you want to get for your reward?” I asked as maneuvered around the other shoppers.

Pulling Percy out of his Paranoia he looks at me and shakes his head. “I have an idea” he admitted solemnly. “But I am not sure if we can afford it.”

“Well, what is it?” I asked as we paused in our walking to let a pudgy old wizard cross in front of us.

“An owl,” Percy said as we start to move forward again. “It’d be much more efficient if I didn’t have to share Errol, and Errol is well…” Percy trails off. What many don’t know is that Percy has a soft spot for animals. Not crazy dangerous animals like Hagrid and Charlie, but house pets. It's hard for any of us Weasleys, except maybe Ron, to bad mouth Errol. Who is probably the oldest owl still working in the world. Errol has been with our family for many years. We all grew up with Errol. Bill taught him how to play fetch. This was before his eyesight started to go. Errol never got to put out if Ron or Ginny got a little too rough with him when they were toddlers, and he used to make shrieking noses if Fred and George tried to leave the house in the middle of the night. Errol is as much as a Wesley as the rest of us.

When Percy mentioned that he wanted an owl, something clicked into place. Percy does get an owl. An owl he’ll name Hermes. And then he’ll give Scabbers to Ron. Scabbers who is actually a traitorous Wizard….. My heart rate speeds up. When I told Fred and George everything yesterday, we thought we would have more time to plan things out. And I don’t think I told them that we’ve had been living with a strange wizard in our house for the past ten years. We’ve had the time to plan what we should do. “What about Scabbers?” I asked as I tried to buy myself time.

“I was thinking of giving him to Ron”. Percy said. Merlin’s beard! Do I stop Percy from getting his owl so he can’t give the coward to our younger brother? Do I let things take it’s course because I know that it’ll work out in the end? “He’s never had a pet” Percy goes on to say. “I mean, you triplets haven’t either. But I think Fred and George would only use him to test their inventions on”. I nod my head slowly. Yeah, they would totally do that. Though on the other side, that might be a way to smoke out Peter Pettigrew and prove Sirius Black innocent. But would unleashing Fred and George on Pettigrew be considered torture? “I could give him to you,” Percy said, looking at me carefully as we stepped into the used clothes shop. We pause just over the thresh hold. “I don’t think you’d abuse him”.

For the most part, Percy is right. I wouldn’t abuse a rat. Especially one that is a pet. But an evil person disguised as a rat…. Well, the jury is still out on that one. What to do? What to do? If I take Scabbers I can prevent Prisoner of Azkaban from ever happening. And then the golden trio can have at least one quiet year at Hogwarts. But what will happen to the rest of the events if I completely change an entire year? Would Harry somehow be ill-prepared to face you-know-who if he doesn’t fight off dementors in his third year? Wait, Harry won’t learn the Patronus his third year if I rescue Sirius Black now. There wouldn’t be a need. And then he wouldn’t be able to ward the dementors off the summer before his fifth year when they attack him and his fat cousin. What’s the right answer to this dilemma! “Holly?” Percy asked, as he nervously looks me over. He reaches out to grab me by my shoulders to pull us both out of the shop entranceway so that other people may enter and exit. “Are you okay?” He asked once he sees that my brown eyes have focused once more and that I’ve snapped back to reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, looking at everything but Percy. “Girl problems” I used my favorite excuse. When you live in a house that is predominantly male, any mention of girl problems tends to make your family members back off. Percy withdraws his hands from my shoulders as if he’s been burned. Apparently, girl problems are contagious. “You should give Scabbers to Ron,” I said before Percy had the chance to run away from me and my problems. I don’t have a plan about what to do about Pettigrew at the moment. So, I think the best thing to do is to keep things as close to canon as possible until I do have a plan. I’ll talk to Fred and George about it at the first opportunity. “After all”, I go on to explain. “I think it will mean more to Ron if you choose him. And everything I own ends up belonging to Fred and George anyway”. In this second life, I have learned that nothing is private from triplets. Especially since I just let them in on my biggest secret. Percy nods as if he finds my answer acceptable and agreeable. But I have to end this conversation somehow. “Except for my bras” I throw out there. “I don’t share those with Fred and George”.

As soon as Percy registers my words his face turns beet red. “Don’t say things like that in public!” Percy scolds. I just shrug at him. Jessie would feel guilty for making her brother so uncomfortable. But for me, as Holly, am absolutely thrilled. Percy clears his throat in an attempt to compose himself. “I’m going to look at the sweaters,” He said, nodding in the directions of the men’s section. “Find me when you’re done” Percy ordered before stalking away.

One pair of black stockings and two slightly used school skirts later, Percy and I make our way to the book store. “I’ve counted the money,” Percy said as we traveled. “I think there is enough to get an owl”. I nod. It isn’t a surprise to me. As long as I don’t intervene, Percy is meant to get an owl.

“Do you want to go to the pet store after this?” I asked as we approach the Flourish and Blots. This is my favorite store in all of Diagon Alley. There’s just something thrilling about being surrounded by walls and walls of books. It also reminds me of Belle’s library from Beauty and the Beast. Which had been Jessie’s favorite movie. Maybe that’s why I like it so much. I take the steps up to the store two at a time, as Percy follows me at a much more composed gait.

Percy hums to himself as he thinks. “Let’s go their last,” He said, as he followed me through the shelves. I only have to get one book this year, as I have second-hand copies for all my other classes from my older siblings. “it’s warm out today. And I don’t want to keep it in a cage longer than I have to” Percy said. I nod at him to show that I am listening as I search the shelves for the specific book. “What book do you need that we don’t already have?” Percy asked.

“Arithmancy” I replied. “Bill took his copy with him to Egypt”. He also took his ancient ruins books with him too. But Charlie also took that class, so we have a book that we can use.

Percy shakes his head. I can see him doing in out of the corner of my eye. This is one of the things I like about being Holly. Jessie had terrible vision and had to wear glasses everywhere. She could never see out of the corner of her eyes. But as far as I can tell, my eyes are fine; allowing me to see out of the corner of my eyes. “I can’t believe the three of you are taking Arithmancy. Why do Fred and George want to take it?”

That’s a very good question. I think, as I find the right book and pull it off of the shelf. Automatically I notice that it is the heaviest textbook I have ever owned. People tend to lump Fred, George, and I together. It doesn’t bother me. We are usually glued at the hips. But when elective sign-ups were passed around last year I saw an opportunity to explore my new identity in terms that don’t include my fellow triplets, and I decided to take it. “They’re not taking arithmancy,” I said, as I start to lead the way to the check-out line.

“Oh,” Percy said, surprised. “I just assumed you three would stick together. What electives are they taking?” Percy asked, sounding genuinely interested about the other middle brothers. That is the first time that’s happened in a while.

“Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient ruins” I answered, coming to a halt at the end of the check-out line. “Though we are taking Ancient ruins together”. I was on the fence about what I should choose for my electives. I knew that I couldn’t stomach Trelawney for three years, so divination was quickly off the table. I really wanted to take Care of Magical Creatures. It always sounded like so much fun in the books, and I totally want to meet Buckbeak. But then I remember about the Monster Book of Monsters, and ultimately decided that I didn’t want to deal with that. Muggle studies was also a possibility. I played around with the idea of taking it for weeks. Jessie was a muggle. Actually, I doubt if there was any magic in Jessie’s world at all considering that to her, Harry Potter was a popular franchise. I thought taking muggle studies would make me feel nostalgic, and remind me of my last life. But it could also have been very boring learning about things that I already know about. So when Fred and George came up to me and begged me to take Ancient ruins with them, it didn’t take too much convincing. And the only other subject after that was Arithmancy.

“I’m still surprised that those two want to take a serious subject like ancient ruins”. Percy said with another shake of his head. We move up in line. “But I’m proud of you Holly,” He said, causing me to turn around so that my back is facing the front of the line. I quirk my eyebrow at him. I don’t think Percy has ever been proud of me before. “For branching out” Percy goes on to explain once seeing my inquisitive look. “Seeing you think for yourself”.

I’m a bit taken back. Is that a backhanded comment? Fred and George are a lot more vocal than I am. But it’s not like I let them talk for me. I decide to take it as a compliment anyway. This is Percy after all. He is trying. “Thanks, Perce”. I said as I faced forward again to move up. Looks like there are only about three more shoppers ahead of us.

“Um,” Percy said, trying for my attention. I look at him from over my shoulder. “Are you, by any chance, taking Arithmancy because Pucey is taking it too?”

I groan and slump my shoulders. “Not you too!” I complain as I turn around again. Percy is awkwardly cleaning his glasses with the bottom of his shirt so he doesn’t have to look at me. If he doesn’t want to discuss boys with his sister then he shouldn’t have brought it up. “Pucey and I are partners in potions class. That is it”. I affirmed as adamantly as I could. “I don’t even know what electives he is taking this year”.

“It’s still odd for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor to be together, even in class” Percy argues.

“Snape paired us up” I retort. Of course, he only paired me with Pucey our first year of school, because Snape absolutely refused to allow three Weasleys to sit together in his classroom. He said he didn’t want to be putting out fires every single class. Pucey and I choose to be partners last year. What can I say, we work well together. But that’s probably why my brothers are all of a sudden so concerned about my love life. Even if my love life only exists in their heads. Because there is no way, that I am going to flirt with a thirteen-year-old boy. Jessie died at the age of 25. With all of her memories, it just feels wrong to woo younger men. I don’t want to be a cougar!

“And then there was that time you two were caught exchange love letters in the hallway”. Percy continues to present his argument.

Damn the Hogwarts rumor miller. “They were notes from class” I correct.

“I just think you should focus on school instead of boys,” Percy said. And then as an afterthought, “Charlie agrees”.

I clutch my new arithmancy book to my chest to fight the urge to throw it at my glasses-wearing brother. “For the last time!” I said, probably a little louder than I should be talking inside a store. “I am not, and nor will I ever date Adrian Pucey!”. During my little declaration, Percy starts to cough and make abort motions with his hands. But I fail to notice until after I am done talking. “What?” I asked, suddenly concerned that my brother might be choking.

“Weasley” A voice greets from behind me.

I twirl around, causing my school cloak to swish around me. Standing out of line, with a book wrapped in parchment (the type of parchment shop owners use after something has just been purchased), I see one Mr. Adrian Pucey standing in all of his glory. I gulp nervously. “Pucey” I return his greeting. My eyes dart to the line, and I see that there is now only one shopper ahead of Percy and me. Does that mean that Adrian had been ahead of us this whole time? Did he hear our whole conversation? Oh, Merlin! I just exclaimed I’d never date him very loudly. How embarrassing. He’s not going to want to be potions partners after this.

“Good summer?” He asked with a smug little smile on his face. He totally heard everything.

“Very pleasant” I offered as I prayed to wizard god that my face doesn’t currently match the color of my flaming hair. “And yours?” I asked because it’s only polite.

“Enjoyable” Adrian said as he casts a sideways glance at Percy. He’s probably wondering if Percy will attack him for daring to talk to his sister. Adrian’s lucky that I am here with Percy. If it was any of my other brothers, then this would be a different conversation. “I must be off. My mother is waiting for me across the street”. Adrian said in a very composed fashion. His disposition matching his nicely groomed hair and pristinely kept clothes. Ever the model Slytherin this one. “Weasley,” Adrian said once more, this time nodding goodbye to Percy. Percy hesitantly nods back. “And Weasley” Adrian turns back to me. “I’ll see you in Arithmancy”. Percy and I watch his back as he exits the book shop.

That prat, he had heard every word Percy and I had said. “Now,” Percy said very slowly. “When you said you didn’t know what electives Pucey was taking…” Percy trails off, unsure if he wants to finish that thought. I sigh and shake my head in annoyance. The next time I see Mr. Pucey I am going to throttle him.

* * *

With our arms full of all rolls of parchment, bottles of ink, bundles of potion ingredients, and me with my book and new clothes, Percy and I head over to the last stop of the day; Eeylops Owl Emporium. This time Percy leads the way with a certain amount of pep in his step that is usually absent. “A barn owl perhaps. Or maybe an eagle owl” Percy mutters to himself as he holds up the store’s front door for me. I don’t pay him any mind. It’s nice to see him so happy for a change. Taking his due diligence, Percy peers into every cage and studies every owl on every perch. The eagle owl is ruled out as being too domineering looking. “I will be using my owl to submit resumes afterall”, Percy tells me. There’s no room for another great grey owl in Percy’s heart as that spot is solely for Errol. The snowy owl is not even considered as it is “simply too showy” are Percy’s exact words. Before I continue to follow my brother around the shop, I take a closer look at the snowy owl. I wonder if I am looking at the soon to be Hedwig. What a weird feeling this is.

When I catch up with Percy, he had moved on to a fake wooden tree that has numerous limbs for owls to perch on. All of the limbs are taken by scops owls. “Oh, they’re cute,” I said as I stood next to Percy as watched as the little owls hooted at us and hopped around.

“Cute” Percy agrees, probably just to humor me. “But not efficient. They're too small to carry a package and I doubt they’d fare well in foul weather”. Percy spares me a look before moving on to the next species of owl. “You must be practical about these types of things, Holly”.

I follow a step behind to look at what looks like to be a display of screech owls. “I don’t need to be practical,” I said evenly. “You’re practical enough for the both of us”.

But Percy isn’t listening to me. All of his attention is on a grey screech owl, grooming his feathers on a singular perch. I look at the owl then at Percy, and then back at the owl. Is this Hermes? “He looks like a strong flyer” Percy said. As if he understood us. Hermes stops grooming and flutters down from his perch. Without being asked, he lands on Percy's shoulder and starts tugging at Percy’s curls with his beak. Percy smiles and takes two fingers to run it down the birds back. “I think he likes me,” Percy said with a soft smile. The same one he had when he first got to hold Ginny when he was five.

Actually, Percy, I think he’s looking for bugs. Is what I want to say, but I settle for, “I’m happy for you Perce”. It’s important to let Percy have his moments when he can.

Percy nods once, having made a decision. As he walks over to the witch sitting behind the front counter to pay, he said, “looks like Ron is going to get a pet rat”. Suddenly I am feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders again. Oh, joy. Ron is going to start having a rat living in his robes’ pockets. My baby brother is going to have a death eater living in his pockets. And I don’t have the foggiest idea about what I should do about it. World-class big sister I am.


	3. The Mundane of the Burrow

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Mundane of the Burrow

Upon returning home from Diagon Alley I am not given the chance to pull George and Fred aside and informing about our rather permanent house guest. The dynamic duo had struck again. And Mum wasn’t having it. “Of all half-wit, thoughtless plans” Mum scolded as she bustled around the kitchen; waving her wand in a flourish she made pots and pans bang together as they set themselves up to prepare the evening meal. Fred and George sit at the table with their heads bowed. They’re trying to look contrite, but they’re not fooling anyone. The shaking of their shoulders gives away their silent snickers, and if you look closely enough you can see the signs of a smile on their downturned faces. “Why I have half a mind…” Mum started to say but trailed off with a frustrated shake of her head. With the pots bubbling on the stove, Mum began to magically peel the potatoes. Seeing as my fellow triplets are probably going to be stuck sitting at the kitchen table until after dinner, I cast them one more look before leaving to seek refuge somewhere else in the house. It seems Scabbers will be safe a while longer. I don’t want to make any plans without Fred and George. That’s partially why I decided to share all my knowledge with them. So, I don’t have to make hard choices alone.

But what exactly did Fred and George do to get in trouble? They tried to bribe an older wizard to buy a rather explosive potion ingredient for them. One that can only be bought by someone of majority age. Unfortunately for them, the wizard they approached had a strong sense of moral responsibility and had marched Fred and George straight to the Leaky Cauldron to tell our mum about what they were trying to do.

I find Ron sitting on the woven rug in the family room with a chessboard set up before him. But he’s not really playing. It’s hard to play chess by yourself. Even if it is wizards’ chess and the pieces can move. “Alright, Ron?” I asked as I walked behind him to sit on the worn, lumpy settee. I have to wriggle to find a comfortable spot. This thing is so old that the stuffing tends to adjust itself based on who is sitting on it. At least it’s not overstuffed like Dad’s favorite armchair. Terrible back support, that chair has.

Ron cranes his head around to look up at me. “You’re not in trouble?” He asked.

“Why would I be in trouble?” I asked. “I’ve been with Percy all afternoon”.

Ron shrugged and turned back to stare at the chess board. “If they’re in trouble you usually are too”.

I rolled my eyes. Why does everyone insist that Fred, George and I are synonyms. If one of us did something, then we must have all done it. The truth of the matter of it is, Fred and George are the masterminds. I lack the creativity to come up with fantastical ideas that pop into their heads. I’m just along for the ride in most situations. There was that one time in first year that I was adamant that we make public enemies with Filch. But I was trying to making sure that Fred and George discovered and stole the marauders’ map from Filch’s office. Just imagine what the Harry Potter series would be like if Harry didn’t have the map. At there was that thing from last year when I used an engorgio charm on Patricia Stimpson’s chest. Sitting behind Ron, I chuckle to myself. Merlin that had been a good day. I had made Stimpson so top-heavy that she couldn’t walk with a straight back on her way to the hospital wing. Imagine that on a twelve-year-old. It was like watching a badly scripted clown act. She had even popped off a couple of buttons on her blouse. The witch had it coming considering that she accused me in front of Pucey of stuffing my bra. Completely justified on my part. Even if McGonagall did not agree. Smothering my amusement, I return my focus to Ron. “So, why are you playing chess by yourself?”

Ron’s shoulders hunch forward as if reminded of something unpleasant. “Percy said we could have a game. But when Mum started to have a go at those two” Ron said, nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen. “He became worried that all the yelling would upset Hermes, and went to go take care of him instead”. Ron spoke mournfully. “He’s been in his room ever since”. Aw, yes. The tales of a neglected younger brother.

“I’ll play” I said with a shrug. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Besides, maybe if I pay a lot of attention to Ron, he’ll have better self-confidence in his fourth year and he and Harry won’t have that terrible argument in their fourth year. Maybe that would even prevent him from leaving Harry and Hermione during the horcux hunt. Of course, that might mean that he wouldn’t be there to prevent Harry from being strangled by the locket… But that’s a headache for another day.

Ron looks at me from over his shoulder again. “But you’re awful at chess” He whined.

I give him a deadpanned look. This brat. You give him a hand and he throws it back at your face. “Fine,” I said, making a show of standing up. “If you rather play by yourself, I’ll just go ask Ginny if she wants to do something”. 

“No,” Ron said quickly. Twisting his spine so that he can see me more fully. “You can play”. So, instead of walking out of the room, I resituate myself until I am sitting across from Ron on the floor with the chess board between us. Too easy. I spend the rest of the time before dinner losing to an eleven-year-old who smiles wider and wider with every captured piece. See, this is why I need Fred and George to help me move forward. I suck at planning for a long game.

* * *

Dinner is in full swing by the time Dad makes it home from the ministry. “Evening Weasleys!” Dad greets as he hangs his hat and cloak on the coat rack by the kitchen door. He walks the long way around the table to kiss Mum on her temple before heading back to where he was when he first entered the room. “Food looks good” He said as he clapped Charlie on the shoulder and rubbed the top of Ginny’s head. Only then does he take his place at the head of table. With great practice and ease, all of us siblings work to pass around the numerous serving platters of food so that Dad can get a serving of each. “Mashed potatoes, Cabbage salad” Dad lists off as he adds a ladle full of each to his plate. “and roast beef”. Dad looks up at Charlie and smiles at him, looking a little misty in the eyes. “All of your favorites” He said.

Charlie passes Dad the salt shaker. “Don’t worry Dad” Charlie said with his own smile. “I’m going to visit. Nothing in Romania is going to compare to Mum’s cooking”.

Mum immediately flushed as she busied herself with cutting up her roast beef. “Oh, you,” She said in a mock scolding tone. Dad clapped Charlie on the shoulder once more before digging into his food. While all the rest of us siblings shared amused looks across the table. Fred with Ron. George with Percy, and me with Ginny. We hated to see any of our siblings go. In a way, it signaled an end of an era. Even if it was nice to have one less person to share a bathroom with. But we’re children. And just like all children, we live with the anticipation of growing up. Moving out is simply the last chapter of childhood. Or at least it is in this house.

“So, what did everyone do today?” Dad asked, glancing around the table expectantly as he placed a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

“We got the shopping done today,” Mum said calmly. A little too calmly. No doubt she is getting poised to inform Dad exactly what had gone down in Diagon Alley today. Glancing to my right I can see Fred and George communicating with each other through looks. They’re trying to find a way out. But I am not terribly sure why. This tactic has never worked for them before.

But Fred and George are spared a few more moments when an excited Ginny breaks in. “Mummy got me a new dress,” She said, leaning closer to Dad and absent mindedly waving her fork around. A little bit of cabbages goes flying off and hits Ron on his check. Who wipes it off with an affronted expression?

“Is that right?” Dad asked, sounding terribly interested. Although He probably knew what Mum’s plans were last night. Other than the occasional smuggling of a muggle item there are no secrets between Mum and Dad.

Ginny nods, enthused as the rest of us this time to stuff our faces. Meals tend to take a bit of time in the burrow due to all of the talking. So, when you are not part of a conversation it is important to fill yourself when you can. “It’s purple with a blue slash and there are little daisies on the skirt” Ginny described. While every male at the table, except Dad, dozes off. “Oh!” Ginny suddenly said. Startling Ron who had his nose so close to his plate that he was practically inhaling his food. “And Percy got an owl! She’s very cute”. The eleven-year-old gushed.

Percy coughed into a closed fist, signaling that he would like a turn to talk. I’m not sure why he feels the need to advertise that he is about to speak. Everyone else in this family just starts talking when they have something they want to say. “He” Percy corrects, looking directing at Ginny to make sure she understood that his owl was a male. “And as I told Holly earlier today. Cute is unimportant. What is important is that Hermes is loyal, strong and a talented flyer”.

“How do you know Hermes is loyal? You’ve only had him a couple of hours.” I asked.

At the same time that Dad said, “You named him Hermes. Clever name for an owl. What type of owl is he?”

I am ignored in favor of answering Dad. A common enough occurrence in big families. It doesn’t bother me. I am heard when it really matters. “A screech owl” Percy answered proudly. “The best in the shop. Holly was there when I bought him. She can attest to this”. Percy finished, nodding his head in my direction.

“Holly” Dad said as he moved on to his next offspring, me. “you went shopping with Percy?” I nod, taking the time to swallow my food. “And what did you buy?”

“Not a lot” I answered. “Mum said I needed a new skirt for school. And I found two that were a good fit so I got those”.

“Stockings” Mum broke in. “Did you get the stockings?”

I nod at her once. “Yes, I got stockings too,” I said before looking back at Dad. “I only needed one book this year and other than that it was just the regular amount of parchment and ink,” I said, purposely leaving out the potion ingredients. Mum no doubt remembers what Fred and George did today. But I also do not need to encourage her to remember what they did faster. Though I do shoot Percy a long look when I said all of this. As a way to ask him not to bring up who we met at the book store. The name Adrian Pucey never needs to be mentioned at this table.

“Well, it sounds like you two had a pleasant day” Dad said, referring to Percy and I. He began to chew on a piece of beef.

“Yes”, Mum agreed. By her posture we could all tell she had more to say. But she seemed to be waiting for Dad to finish his bite of food.

I feel George nudging my foot under the table. Turning to face him, I can see him and Fred both giving me giant puppy eyes. They want me to stall and give them some more time. I’m not sure why. There’s no stopping Mum. I sigh. However, there’s no harm in playing along either. “How was work, Dad?” I asked before Mum could finish her thought.

I can feel Mum’s eyes boring into me as Dad’s entire face lights up. She knows exactly what I am doing. “Marvelous” Dad said, gesturing with his hands as emphasis. “absolutely stunning. Someone brought in a vacuum today. Fascinating thing, a vacuum. Unfortunately, it had be cursed to consume everything it touches. But when used for their intended purposes, muggles find them very useful.” Dad said. 

“Arthur” Mum tries to interrupt before Dad goes off on one of his famous rants.

“Muggle use them to clean” Dad said, having no heard Mum. He looks around the table at all of us, nodding his head. As if to say, ‘I know. I didn’t believe it either’.

“Arthur!” Mum said again. This time louder, before Dad could go into further detail about the function of a Vacuum. Once Dad is looking at her, Mum returns to her inside voice. “You didn’t ask what Fred and George did today while at Diagon Alley,” Mum said in her sternest voice.

“Oh?” Dad said, already suspecting the worst. He eyes his identical sons wearily.

George laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head as Fred said, “we didn’t need a whole lot either. Mostly just potion supplies”.

“We spent most of our time at the apothecary” George added on.

Dad took his time as he thought through all the implications in their words. “Well, that doesn’t seem-” Dad started to say.

“Arthur” Mum interjects again. “Your sons tried to purchase an ingredient that they are too young to buy by badging a random adult. A complete stranger!”

“Now boys”, Dad said, putting down his fork. “There are age restrictions for a reason”.

“You didn’t know who this person was!” Mum continues to talk. Now, directly at Fred and George. “He could have been a criminal. Or a murderer! What if he had tried to kidnap you two?”

“Mum!” Fred complained. Sounding absolutely exasperated. “We wouldn’t have gotten ourselves killed or snatched. It’s not like there are dark wizards wandering around Diagon Alley in broad daylight”.

Well, I think to myself as I take a sip of water. There aren’t any dark wizards in Diagon Alley yet. Give it time. We still have a couple more years before that happens. Charlie speaks up as Mum, Fred and George argue about rights and wrongs while Dad tries to be the peacekeeper. “Gin, Ron? Do you guys want to see if we can catch any fireflies down by the pond?”

Ron and Ginny nod their response as they stand up. Quickly, Charlie does the same so that he can lead them out. “I’ll come too” I said. Abandoning my mostly eaten dinner. The four of us make for the back yard as Percy excuses himself. No doubt to check on Hermes. None of us want to be caught in the crossfires of a Mum and Fred and George fight. 

* * *

A brunette woman, with hair sprawled out around her head as she laid on a dirt floor cries. “No. Please no”. She pleads between sobs. “It’s not too late. You can walk away”. Her hands are pressed against her abdomen as a warm, red liquid gushes through her fingers. She was slowly losing feeling in her lower extremities and the edges of her vision was starting to blur.

“Jessie, Jessie, Jessie” her killer tsked. “You’re getting exactly what you asked for”. The killer said in an eerily calm, running the edge of a bloodied butcher’s knife along the length of Jessie’s cheek. The Killer doesn’t use enough force to cut Jessie’s cheek. Just enough to intimidate further. If that is even possible.

Like flipping a switch, the killer’s face suddenly twists. Contorting into a foul expression of evil, desire, and jubilation. Once, twice, maybe more; the knife is plunged into numerous locations of Jessie’s body. Her last moments of consciousness involve the labored rise and fall of her mutilated chest and the sound of gurgling.

Moments later I shoot up in my bed. The patchwork quilt falls from my shoulders and pools around my waist as I instinctually breathe through my mouth. My chest strains to calm my beating heart as I survey the room. I’m not in that place. I tell myself. There are no dirt floors here. I think as I glance down to the floor to confirm the hardwood of the Weasley household. There is no one here except for me and Ginny. I continue to reason with myself as I look at all four corners of the room. First at the blue half of the room that belongs to me, and then at the pink half of the room that belongs to Ginny. Nothing is out of place. Not even Ginny’s snoring is amiss. It’s amazing what that child can sleep through. Slowly, my heart rate returns to normal. But that does nothing to cure my shaking hands. I have been dreaming about Jessie’s murder off and on for the entirety of my life. Well, the entirety of Holly’s life. My nightmares used to terrify Mum and Dad. I’d wake up screaming at the top of my lungs. Clawing at my throat as if I was choking. And when someone tried to console me before I was fully awake, I would attack them; bite, scratch, kick or punch. Anything I could do really. Once, when Bill was babysitting, I managed to strike him in the nose. There was blood everywhere. Dad had to take him to St. Mungos.

And when I am awake, I used to cry into their shoulders, “Dead. I’m dead”. I think the most disconcerting thing for them was that there was no explanation about why I kept dreaming about being dead. At least, not for them. For a while after I broke Bill’s nose, I was taking a mild dosage of dreamless sleep potion before bed every night. But dreamless sleep is never supposed to be a long-term solution. And I was quickly weaned off of it as soon as Mum and Dad felt it wise. The nightmares didn’t stop. Obviously. But I learned how to deal. I learned not to cry out in my sleep. I figured out that reminding myself that I am Holly and not Jessie would help me calm down. But still, after a murder dream, I always find myself slipping out of bed and tiptoeing to the one place I do fell 100% safe. Ginny’s and my bedroom door is always open just a crack, because Ginny doesn’t like to sleep with it closed. So, it is easy to slip out into the hallway. I have to be mindful on one of the stairs that creaks, but other than that it is pretty easy for me to get to Fred and George’s room undetected.

Outside their door, I don’t knock. I don’t ask for permission as I enter their room. Neither of the two boys wakes up at my presence and that’s okay. I don’t expect them to. Not when I have been doing this for years. Fred lies on his stomach, with his arms spread out over the sides of his bed as he sleeps. I skip his bed in favor of George’s. George’s bed is the one furthest away from the door. And it’s where I feel the most refuge. George prefers to sleep on his side. So, it is easy to slip under his quilt. As I lay my head on his pillow, the scent of grass and other undeterminable scents fill my nose. A sign that nothing bad can touch me here. I sigh in relief, decompressing. But I can still feel Jessie’s terror. Or rather, I still remember Jessie’s terror.

George turns over in his bed. Probably woken up as I made myself comfortable. He stares at me a bit unfocused as sleep is still heavy in his eyes. But he doesn’t say anything. Like I’ve said. I have done this for years. Every since Mum decided it was getting inappropriate for me to share a room with my fellow triplets. I even do this at Hogwarts. Luckily, girls can get into the boys’ dorms without any problems. Instead, he swings an arm over my middle and pulls me in. Getting us as comfortable as two people can be on a twin-sized bed. “Nightmares?” He asked in a whisper.

“Yeah” I whispered back.

“They’re about Jessie,” he said, not phrasing it as a question. It seems, after having learned of my reincarnation, George has put two and two together. “What happens in them?” He asked carefully.

No one has asked me that question in years. Not since it became clear that I would always argue that I didn’t remember. But Fred and George know now. So, there’s no point in keeping up that ruse. “I keep reliving how I died”. George’s arm tightens around my middle. Mum will probably be the one to find us tomorrow morning and I’ll get another lecture about why I am too old to be sleeping in the same bed as my brothers. But it’s worth it if I am able to go back to sleep after a nightmare. “Sorry I woke you,” I said, closing my eyes. “Go back to sleep. I need to talk to you and Fred in the morning about something rather important that I forgot to mention”. I whispered.

For a moment George is silent, and I think maybe he’s going to let the subject drop. But he asked one more question. “Holls?” He asked. I hummed back at him to signal that he has my attention. “How did you die?”

I open my eyes again. Staring up at the ceiling that Fred and George had decorated with cut out stars, I answer with a voice that sounds the same but feels a lot more like Jessie than Holly. “Someone killed me.”

George tenses again. “How? Why?” He whispers urgently.

“Don’t know”. I answered. No matter how many times I have the same nightmare over and over again, I can never recall the details of the knife-wielding killer looming over me. I don’t even know if Jessie’s killer was a man or a woman. “I can never remember whose face I saw last before I became Holly. But I think it was someone I knew. Well, someone Jessie knew”. 


	4. Summer's End

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summer’s End

After Charlie’s departure, the rest of the summer passes in a whirlwind. Within that span of time, Percy revised his homework an abundant amount of times. Ron flew around on Bill’s old broom as much as Mum would allow. Ginny complained to anyone who’d listen about how unfair it was that she wasn’t allowed to go to Hogwarts. While Fred, George, and I secluded ourselves in the boys’ bedroom.

We had many conversations pertaining to the ever-daunting future. The majority of them revolving around the specific topic; what the bloody hell are we supposed to do about Scabbers?

“I say we just kill him”. Fred said. “In rat form, it shouldn’t be that hard”. Committing homicide is what all three of us revert back to when we get frustrated and still can’t come to a decision.

“We can’t kill him,” said George.

“If we did Sirius Black will never get the chance to be proven innocent”. I finish for George.

“Not to mention we’d be murdered” Fred concludes. And there lies the major problem. Do we kill one person to prevent a war? Or do we stick to our moral code? Fred crosses his arms from where he is sitting on the floor of his and George’s room. His right cheek is puffed out to suggest extreme contemplation. “I just don’t like it that a death eater is sleeping in our little brother’s room”. The day after Percy got Hermes, he gifted Ron the old rat. And since then, Pettigrew had been living in Ron’s room.

“Me neither,” George and I said at the same time. George is standing with his back up against the door to prevent it from opening. It’s his turn to stand guard. It wouldn’t do for anyone to barge in and realize that we are plotting the demise of a supposed family pet. We may not be able to kill Pettigrew, but we are defiantly disposing of Scabbers.

“What did Scabbers do?” George asked. “I mean, in the future, what will he do?”

I blow hair out of my face as I lie stomach down on Fred’s bed. What does Wormtail do after the third book? “Umm,” I said as I collected my thoughts. “After he escapes in Ron’s third year he’ll go to Albania and find the left-overs of you-know-who. He’ll take the left-overs back to the UK. And at the end of Ron’s fourth year, he’ll use Harry’s blood, a stolen bone from a grave, and his hand to return you-know-who to a fully-abled body form”. I said, pondering over that shortlist. Does he do anything else?

“His hand?” Fred asked, seeking clarity.

“Yup,” I said popping the P. “He cuts off his own hand to revive you-know-who”.

“Blimey”, George comments, his face turning a bit green. But he composes himself quickly enough. “What if” George starts to say, throwing out another idea. “we cut off Scabbers’ front paws and then expose him Dumbledore at the start of term? Thant way Black will have a chance to be set free and if Scabbers does escape he won’t have any hands to sacrifice. He won’t even be able to use a wand”.

I roll the idea around in my head. It’s not a bad idea. It would kill two birds with one stone; prevent or at least stall the return of the dark lord, and prove Sirius Black innocent. Of course, that plan involves the three of us mutilating someone. I wiggle a hand between my stomach and Fred’s mattress, palm up. I touch one of the places Jessie was stabbed. Could I go through with that? Could I hurt someone? Disfigure them after knowing what it’s like? I’m not sure I would be willing to let Fred and George do it either.

Fred shakes his head before I do. “No. We wouldn’t be able to explain how we knew Scabbers was actually a man”.

“But she should do something”. I said, trying to keep the wheels turning. We’ll board the Hogwarts express tomorrow. And who knows if we will be able to plan like this at school.

George nods. “I’ve been sleeping with one eye open since Jolly Holly told us about the rodent. To think that someone who killed twelve muggles is living in Arthur Weasley’s house. George tucks his chin down as if the thought adding extra weight to his head. “Dad would have a fit if he knew”. We take a moment of silence to deal with the serious feeling of the situation. “And I thought having a ghoul in our attic was bad enough”.

“Merlin Holls”, Fred broke in, as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Scabbers has been living with our families for about ten years. We were three when Percy found him. And you’ve known all this time!” Fred gives me an incredulous look. “How have you not gone batty?”

Still lying stomach down on Fred’s bed, I pick up my head to look at him. It’s a valid question. When we were three, I was in a state of oscillating between panic, boredom, and elation. On one hand, there was a mass murderer living in my older brother’s room. On the other hand, I was a twenty-five-year-old woman trapped in the body of a three-year-old. Pettigrew moving in was one of the most terrifying things to happen in my new life, but at least it was exciting. Overall, however; I was elated. What self-respecting Harry Potter fan wouldn’t be if they got a second chance at life and got to spend said life with the Weasleys?

“Hang on,” said George as he shoots me an accusing look. “We were three. Wasn’t that the age when you’d throw a fit every time Mum would make you sleep in your own bed?” Well, crap. I didn’t think he’d remember that.

“Yeah”, Fred recalls. Damn, they have good memories. “And you would only calm down when Dad caved and let you sleep in their bed with them”.

Both of them stare me down, wanting an explanation. “At the time,” I said very slowly. I don’t think there’s a way to phrase this any differently. “Mum and Dad were the only ones who had wands”.

The looks on their faces, a mix between wide-eyed betrayal, and furrowed brow fear, clearly express how unimpressed they are. I suppose I’d feel the same way if I was in their shoes. “You left us alone with a murderer in the house”. Fred restates.

I smack my lips together and look back and forth between my brothers with shifty eyes. Yeah, I can’t blame them. That does sound really bad. “I was three” was my retort.

“So were we!” Fred throws back. “And you weren’t really three. You had twenty-five more years of life experience than we had”.

I mean, Fred does have a point. But I can’t let him know that. “No”, I argue. “Jessie had twenty-five years of life experience. Me, as in Holly, was very much a three-year-old”. Silence fills the room as the three of us sort out our feelings. It can’t be easy learning that your sister knew there was a killer in the house and didn’t do anything about it. But taking it from my perspective, no one would have believed me if I just started saying out of the blue that Scabbers was actually a wizard who killed twelve people and framed Sirius Black in the process. There would have been no logical explanation about how I even knew who Sirius Black was at that age.

The silence ends when George starts to snicker. And he won’t explain why he’s laugh until both Fred and I are staring at him with questions. “You told Dad that you were scared to sleep alone because there was a monster in Percy’s room that was going to hurt you”. All I can do is shrug in response as Fred looks at me with mild disbelief. The best liars tell the truth.

In the end, we come up with a plan that will probably keep us occupied for the entire school year. Using Hogwarts numerous resources, AKA the library, we will search for a way to publicly expose Pettigrew to Hogwarts staff. That way we’ll have very little to explain and there will be no denying that Scabbers is actually a wizard. With our end goal being; Scabbers does not come home with us for another summer.

But on the side, we’ll also have to monitor the golden trio. As disturbing as it is to keep a murderer as a pet, it is equally disturbing to know that our defense against the dark arts teacher is hosting you-know-who in his body. We’re going to have to spend whole classes stuck in the same room as him. We’ll need to keep an eye out for any trolls in the dungeon. We’ll need to spy on Hagrid to know exactly when Norbert, or rather Norberta, will hatch. If we can, we should keep the first years out of the forbidden forest. Harry will require extra attention in the hopes that we’ll know when his scar starts to hurt. And Fred and George will have to be diligent about quidditch practice so they’ll be in fit form to help Harry when Quirrell jinxes his broomstick. Ultimately, based on how things play out, we have to decide what we should do about the third-floor corridor. Do we let events carry out as they’re supposed to? As J.K. Rowling intended? Do we go with the golden trio? Do we prevent Ron and Hermione from going, and instead the three of us go to support Harry? Because Harry does have to be the one to defeat Quirrell. Knowing what I do, I might be able to get the stone out of the mirror. But only Harry has the required touch, if you will, to end Quirrell. Other than that, it’ll just be another year at Hogwarts.

* * *

With six kids, at least four trolleys, five trunks and one caged owl traversing through muggle King’s Cross station is one of the most stressful days of the year for Molly Weasley. “Every year, packed with muggles of course,” She said rather loudly as she leads the way the platforms nine and ten. Ginny walks beside her with Mum firmly holding her hand. She’s been pouting all morning. Whatever plan she had concocted that she thought would get Mum to allow her to go to Hogwarts hadn’t worked. It must be hard to be the youngest in a family this big. Ginny will be the only Weasley child at home for the next nine months. That will be hard after having at least Ron to always play with. It’s a bit funny to think out of all eight of us only two will have any idea what it is like to be an only child; Bill and Ginny. But Ginny doesn’t have it all bad. She’ll get to go to Romania this year for Christmas.

Percy walks behind Mum and Ginny, but ahead of the rest of us. He is the most excited about going back to school. I don’t recall exactly when Percy gets a girlfriend, but I think Penelope Clearwater might have something to do with his eagerness. He pushes his trolley with Hermes proudly on display in his cage on top of his trunk and his prefect badge gleams from where it is pinned over his muggle street clothes. No doubt he will have a lot to show Clearwater. I wish him luck in his endeavors.

After Percy, I follow shoulder to shoulder with Fred and George. Between the three of us, we only have two trolleys. Fred has both of his and my trunk stacked on his trolley. While George manages his own trunk, will all of our carry-bags on top. When we arrived at the station, we could only find four free trolleys. So, Fred, George, and I got lumped together like we always do. I don’t mind. Let the boys do the heavy lifting. Not having to push anything give me the opportunity to be on the lookout for one scrawny, shaggy black-haired youth. “Platform nine and three quarters this way,” Mum said, urging us on. We always seem to move just a little too slow for her. It is when Mum said this that I spot a very confused looking boy standing off in the distance in clothes that are a couple sizes too big. He has with him a trolley carrying a brand-new trunk and a snowy white owl. With my elbows, I nudge Fred and George in turn. With a subtle tilt of my head, I point my fellow triplets in the right direction. A second later Fred and George nod. Target acquired. We have to be careful not to be too obvious. Not with Ron walking behind us. Though he hasn’t been the most observant person this morning. He is looking a bit too pale for my liking. Though, that’s probably our fault. Over breakfast, Fred and George had told him that in order to get sorted he had to face a troll. And I didn’t correct them. But it’s fine. He’ll be fine. It’s just a little hazing between siblings. Completely harmless.

In the books… or was it the movie? Harry follows us once he hears Mum mention the platform. I use the corner of my eyes to see if that’s true. Pleased as punch when I see the nervous boy trailing us. That’s good. Once at platforms nine and ten, Mum stops and steps to the side; taking Ginny with her. “Percy you first” Mum orders. She sounds just a tad less frizzled now that we are almost at our destination. I wonder what Mum does when we are off at school. I mean, I remember what it was like when we’d see Bill, Charlie, and Percy off. Mum always cried. But that was when she’d still have a full house, even with her three oldest gone. But when us triplets started school, I kind of imagined Mum going home, sending the younger ones off to do some reading and popping open a bottle of sherry and putting her feet. Now, Mum really doesn’t seem to be the type to do that. But if I was a mother of eight who finally got a quiet moment to myself, I’d be drinking.

Percy doesn’t hesitate as he takes the barrier between nine and ten at a run. Clearwater is on the other side I suspect. In a blink of an eye, Percy disappears. I have to fight the urge to look over my shoulder to see if Mr. Potter has the same startled look that he had in the movie. The fact that this is real life is something that I have to keep reminding myself. Mum nods her head in approval before turning to the next of us. “Fred, you next,” she said with a wave of her free hand.

“He’s not Fred,” George said.

“I’m George,” Fred said a beat after George talked. Both have put on their best acting hats and are trying to sound offended. “Honestly woman, and you call yourself our mother."

Mum nods her head at them in understanding. She hates it when she gets Fred and George mixed up. But at the moment she is more concerned about getting us all on the train than hurt feelings. “Sorry, George dear”. Mum placates. As the mentioned brother, who is actually Fred, lines himself up with the trolley to make for the barrier.

Once he is all set, Fred looks up at Mum. “Only Joking”, He said. “I am Fred”. And he took off before Mum could say anything. George quickly follows suit and runs without being prompted. In a moment, both of them have disappeared.

Mum stamps her foot at the two but otherwise waves off their little joke. They’ve been pulling that one on her ever since they realized that they looked the same. “Holly,” she said, turning to me. “Off you pop”. I take the barrier at a slower pace than the others. If memory serves this is when Harry should be approaching Mum for help.

And just before I pass through, I hear a new voice call out, “Excuse me”. Aw, I won’t get to hear Ginny say her first two words to her future husband.

Fred, George and I don’t dally to stay behind to meet Harry Potter. As third-year students, we are old hats at claiming a compartment for ourselves. And that takes precedence over everything else. Even Harry Potter. Not to worry though. We’ll meet him soon enough. Abandoning the trolleys, I help Fred and George haul our trunks onto the train. From there we each claim our own trunk and walk single file down the aisle, dragging the trunks behind us. Fred in the lead, me in the middle, and George as the caboose. Though only two compartments in, Fred spies Lee Jordan. We need not worry about claiming a compartment after all. Jordan has beaten us to it. “Lee” Fred greeted after he slung open the compartment door. Fred enters first and makes short work of swinging his trunk up into the overhead rack. It’s all those beater’s muscles that allow him and George to do it so easily.

“Weasley, Weasley, and Weasley,” Lee said to each of us in turn as we filed in. He is sitting by the window with a suspicious brown cardboard box on his lap. He’s too calm. Too composed. Usually, when we first see each other after a school break, he is bouncing around like a terrier puppy. Something in the back of my mind tells me that I am not going to like whatever is in his box. But for the life of me, I can’t remember what it is. Fred Helps me place my trunk next to his as George does the same on the opposite rack. Only, he places his trunk next to Lee’s. Maybe I should find Pucey and sit with him this train ride. It might be worth the extra teasing if I can avoid whatever is in that box.

“You okay holding the compartment, Lee?” George asked once all of our things are settled. “Mum will want to say bye before we leave”.

Lee nods in an easy-going manner. “No problem. I can wait here”. What is in that box? “Just don’t make me wait too long. I got a gift for Jolly Holly”. His lips twitch as if he is fighting a smile as he gestures his head to the box on his lap. He is taking such care to not move it. With narrowed eyes, I decide that I don’t want to know what is in that box. Percy. There’s always Percy. I can hide behind him this train ride. He wouldn’t let some boy hand me a suspicious box. Even if it is Fred and George’s best friend. But he’ll be at his prefects' meeting for the first half of this trip. Bullocks.

In reverse order, George leads us out of the compartment. And here is step one of the plan. Well, not really. Considering that this part also happened in the book. We don’t go immediately to the platform to say goodbye to Ginny and Mum. Instead, we search for the chosen one. Fred and George need to help him with his trunk after all.

We find Harry in a compartment all by his lonesome. He has the compartment window open, where he can hear all the heartfelt goodbyes between parent and offspring. This boy really likes to torture himself, doesn’t he? He’s standing up with his arms over his head as he tries to keep his trunk from falling off of the rack and onto his head. His thin little arms are shaking with all of his efforts. George and Fred step in at once while I stand in the doorframe. I had told them that they would meet Harry on the train and under exactly what circumstances. But nevertheless, I am proud to be their sister when they step up to help without any hesitation.

Once the trunk is safely stowed away, Fred and George turn to the eleven-year-old. “Nice to meet you, first-year” Fred started. “I’m Fred,” he said, reaching across the grab Harry’s right hand.

“I’m George,” George said as he copied Fred, except he grabbed Harry’s left hand. An act that forced Harry to cross his arms at his elbows. Fred and George shake his hands in a rigorous fashion. Causing Harry’s bangs to bounds and his glasses to go askew. The poor boy is too polite to tell these two gits to quit it. “And this is Holly,” George said, nodding over his shoulder in my direction once they were done shaking hands.

Play it cool, Holly. I tell myself as I give the boy-who-lived a lazy little half-wave. It wouldn’t do to let him know that I know who he is before he even gives us his name. But this is more difficult than I imagined it to be. It’s hard to keep still and calm. I mean, there’s a literary hero standing right in front of me! “We’re triplets,” Fred and George said at the same time. As if it wasn’t already obvious.

With his hands freed, Harry straightens his glasses. He seems almost bewildered by the onslaught that is Fred and George. But with time he’ll get used to it. “Er… Hi,” He said after a moment. “I’m Harry Potter,” He said.

“Blimey,” George said.

“He really is” Fred finished as both boys peered inquisitively at Harry’s forehead, acting as if they hadn’t known it from the start. “Well if you need anything Mr. Potter, come find us. We know the school better than anyone”.

“And we’d be happy to help”, George started where Fred left off. “We won’t even charge you for it”. Once George finished the three of us backed out of the compartment, each giving Harry one more wave.

“Did that go okay?” Fred asked me as we walked away, heading for the platform to give Mum and Ginny our goodbyes.

“yeah”, I said quietly as a couple of fifth years squeezed past us. “That was pretty much how I remembered it from the books”. Although Fred and George didn’t offer to help him straight out like that on the train. But considering what we are planning on doing this year, Fred and George thought it would be a good idea to do so.

“I don’t know,” George said as the three of us stepped out onto the platform. We immediately find Mum and Ginny due to all of the red hair. “Wasn’t it kind of odd that Holly just stood there and didn’t say anything?” George asked as we made our way over. Looks like Mum is just finishing with Percy.

I shrug. “I usually don’t say a whole lot”. For me, that was completely in character. “You two combined talk enough that I don’t have to”.

“Aw,” Fred swings an arm over my shoulders and gives me a shake once we are only a few feet away from Mum and Ginny. “Don’t worry Holls. We’ll break you out of your shell. You won’t be shy forever”. I roll my eyes. Shy, as if.

At the sight of us, Mum lets Percy go. He scampers off with one last hug for Ginny. Probably to find the prefects’ car. Mum starts with me. Pulling me into a hug and out from under Fred’s arm, before doing the same for George and then Fred. “Now,” she said, as Ginny and Ron stood in the background as spectators. “You three,” she said very sternly. He has one hand on her hip as she uses her other hand to point at each of us in turn. “Behave this year. I don’t want a single owl telling me that you’ve blown up a toilet, or-”

I cut her off. “Blown up a toilet? That’s disgusting. We’ve never blown up a toilet” I said.

But before Mum can even look a little relieved Fred takes charge. “Great idea though. Thanks Mum”. Fred said, smiling widely at Mum. I shake my head. We are not blowing up a toilet.

“Yeah” George chimed in. “Hey Ginny, do you want us to send you a Hogwarts toilet seat?” George asked, making it sound like the world’s greatest Christmas gift. But I refuse. I absolutely refuse. We will not be blowing up a germy, disgusting toilet.

Ginny giggled at their antics. At least that is better than the pouting face she has been displaying all morning. “It isn’t funny!” Mum reprimands as she chooses to just ignore Fred and George. She pulls Ron into a hug, making the boy blush. “you’ll look after Ron” She said, giving us another direction.

Fred and George smirk at each other. “Don’t worry. Ickle Ronniekins will be safe with us” Fred said in a baby voice as Ron turned a dark shade of red.

“Shut up” he complained. The four of us all get one last hug from Mum and Ginny before the train whistle sounds.

“On you go,” Mum said. Placing one last kiss on top of Ron’s forehead as we boarded the train. The train door magically shuts behind us. So it is safe for us to stand there as the train pulls out of the station. We all wave to Mum and Ginny. The later who chases after the train. She doesn’t stop until she runs out of platform to run on. We don’t stop waving until we can no longer see them. And a new year at Hogwarts has officially started.

“Well,” George said, as he pulls me and Fred away from the closed door. “We’re going to sit with Lee Jordan,” he said to Ron.

“He has something to show Holly,” Fred said, eyes flashing with mirth. Oh, merlin. I had forgotten about that stupid box. Maybe I should run.

Though as if reading my mind, Fred and George each grab one of my hands. There really is no escaping these two. “So, have fun Ron”. They said in sync. “We’ll see you later.”

“After the sorting”

“If you survive the troll”.

Ron gulps nervously. “Can’t I sit with you lot?” He asked.

“Sorry, Ron,” I said. It is vital. At least in my opinion, that he makes friends with Harry this trip. It is simply a friendship that was meant to be.

“But you have to be at least this tall,” Fred said, waving his free hand horizontally over the top of my head. Fred and George may be identical, but as I am a girl, I am not. One of our physical differences is height. Fred and George are at least two inches taller than I am. “To ride with us”. Fred leads, the way. Tugging on my hand to get me to follow.

I get the feeling that I am going to be held captive for this train ride. I sigh. Or at least until I look into Lee Jordan’s box. But I resist long enough to inform Ron of something rather important. “There’s a boy about your age sitting by himself three compartments down. Why don’t you go ask if you can sit with him” I said, as Fred finally manages to get me moving. George follows after me, seeing as we are all holding hands. There’s nothing wrong with giving Ron a little push in the right direction.


	5. The Student Body

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Student Body

As we exit the Hogwarts express, fully dressed in our school uniforms, I endeavor to keep a five-foot radius between me and Lee Jordan. Or rather Lee’s giant hairy tarantula that he decided to bring with him to school this year. What was his mother thinking? Fred, George, and their best friend walk ahead of me as we head away from Hogsmeade station and towards the school carriages that are waiting to pick up students. Lee has the box containing his new pet under his arm. Every once in a while, they will glance over their shoulders at me. Fred and George will laugh, snickering at my discomfort. I may not have Ron’s phobia of spiders. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t be upset when a tarantula jumps out of a box and towards my face. I can think of three people who would find that funny. And I am looking at them right now. If I see Lee’s pet again there might be some hair coloring potion in these boys’ futures. Whenever Lee looks back, he doesn’t laugh. Unlike my oh so supportive brothers. Instead, he winks at me as if there is something untold between us. I wonder what he could be on to think that I know what he means when he winks.

My wish to keep distance between myself and Lee’s pet is challenged by the carriages. If I ride with my usual housemates, I will be closer than five feet to Lee’s box. I play around with the idea of riding in a different carriage as Fred and George come inside one of the empty ones. It’s never too late to make new friends. Lee hands his box up to one of my brothers before he holds the carriage door open with a flourish. Lee gives me an exaggerated bow. “My lady,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me.

Hell no. Not happening. I really hope he’s joking. I thought as I shake my head in an attempt to clear it. I really hope he’s joking, because I am not putting up with pubescent boys. Jessie had to do that the first time around, and I feel that I shouldn’t have to go through that twice. Lee has to be joking. There is no way Fred and George would let him flirt with me if he was serious. That is what I tell myself as I try to talk myself into getting in the carriage. Luckily, I don’t have to.

“Shame,” A new voice said as a figure appeared at my side. I glance up to see the clean-cut face of Adrian Pucey. “It seems that this carriage is full” I can see the confidence slipping off of Jordan’s face as he straightens out of his bow. Fred and George peer at me from inside the carriage. The intensity of their stares makes their message very apparent; get in here! And I would totally join my brother and Lee… If it wasn’t for the tarantula. “And here I wanted to discuss the summer potions assignment with you,” Adrian said as he held his hands behind his back. “Oh well,” he said, turning to walk away.

I watch him go for a few steps. “Jolly Holly?” I hear George call out in concern. Concern for who, I wondered.

“Pucey Wait” I called after the Slytherin. “I’ll come with you. I want to discuss potions too” I said, turning my back on Fred and George and their over-eager friend.

Pucey pauses. And if he throws a conquering smirk in the direction of the family and friend I am leaving behind, I chose not to notice. In a proper manner, Pucey offers me his arm before we head to the next available carriage. But I decline to take it. That would only get me into further trouble with Fred and George once we reconvene. Pucey isn’t bothered as we fall in step with each other. Though I find myself halting as I look at the next carriage. Despite riding the carriages last year, it’s hard not to react to the sight of the sinisterly thin, black leathery form of the two thestrals hitched up to pull the carriage. Noticing my hesitation, Pucey looks back at me and pauses once more. “Oh”, he said after a moment. Snapping me out of my daze. “You can see them”.

“Yes,” I said, coughing in my hand to clear to awkwardness from our conversation as I started to walk once more. Pucey obliges. “You can see them too?” I asked as we come to stand next to the carriage’s door.

“No,” he said very lightly as he opened the carriage door. He holds the door open for me just like Lee did. But Pucey doesn’t make a silly little bow or do anything stupid with his eyebrows. “But I know they are there”. Pucey holds out his hand to help me climb into the carriage. Like something out of a Jane Austen novel. I have never read Jane Austen, but Jessie had. So, I just have to trust her memory that Pucey is doing this right. Since there are no brothers around to see and judge me, I accept Pucey’s hand. It’s cold. Understandable, considering that we are standing outside at night in Scotland. But it is also calloused from holding a broomstick, and solid. His fingers bend around mine, and he places his thumb across my knuckles. A tingle shoots up my arm and I curse Holly’s teen hormones. Dealing with pubescent boys is one thing. But dealing with being a pubescent girl is something that might actually do me in. With Pucey helping me balance, I step into the carriage. Taking the seat facing the thestrals, and away from the door. Pucey swiftly takes his own place next to me and closes the carriage door with a smart snap after making sure that no robes would get caught. It seems no other students will be joining us. This should bug me. But it doesn’t. Subconsciously, I rub my hands on my skirt, drying them of any potential sweat. “I’m curious,” Pucey said once the carriage started to move. “If you can see the thestrals, who did you see die?”

It’s a very astute question. Since Pucey is a Slytherin I am not surprised. As far as the wizarding world knows, no one in the Weasley family has died in a long time. We are all still waiting for Great Aunt Muriel to kick the bucket. So, if not a family member, whose death would a thirteen-year-old girl have seen? The truth is that I, as in Holly, have not seen anyone die. I’ve even never been to a funeral. But I have experienced death, Jessie’s death. And I’ve seen her die many times in my dreams. “I rather not talk about it,” I said after a moment. Like a gentleman, Pucey doesn’t press. “So”, I said after having worked up the courage. “what about potions did you want to talk about?” I asked, looking back at Pucey. He’s staring out, watching the trees as they pass by.

He hums at me. “Oh, I don’t have anything I wanted to discuss. I just wanted to see the looks on your brothers’ faces when I walked off with their sister”. The smugness in his voice is hard to ignore. What an asshole. At least he’s an honest asshole. “I haven’t forgotten about that sticking charm they applied to my ladle last year”.

I work to smother a laugh. “Sorry about that”, I said, once I had some composure. “It was intended for me”.

“Sure” Pucey, said, flickering his eyes in my direction before returning to watch the passing trees. It almost sounds like he doesn’t believe me. Smart boy.

* * *

The great hall is as splendid as ever. The bewitched night sky takes my breath away every time I see it. Pucey and I separate at the doors. We don’t waste time on ‘goodbyes’ or ‘see you soons’. Outside of public formality, it has never really been our style. As I head over to Gryffindor table, Fred and George see me before I see them. I know this because one minute I am walking and the next I am being dragged down into an open seat at the table. “Flirting with Pucey wasn’t part of the plan, Sister dear” George hissed into my as I swing my legs over the bench to sit properly at the table. Fred and George had managed to sandwich me in between them. Not that we don’t normally sit this way, but I object to not being given a choice. Sitting directly across from us is Lee Jordan. He smiles at me and winks again. Oh, good. No hard feels from earlier then.

I roll my eyes at George and said in a normal volume, “Neither was letting a spider attack my face, brother mine” I retort back.

“You mean you didn’t like Mr. Spider’s hug” Lee piped up, sounding absolutely shocked. He’s been spending too much time with Fred and George, and this is coming from someone who lives with them.

I give Lee my best, unimpressed look. It’s the type of look only a big sister has. “No one would enjoy a giant spider leaping at them”. I said. As I think about what he said. Did he actually name that thing Mr. Spider?

“I thought it was funny” Fred chimed in, chuckling. But his eyes aren’t laughing and they probably won’t until he forgives me for going off with Pucey.

“So was the look face when I decide to take a carriage with someone else”. No need to say who that person was. We all know who. Honestly, the only thing this conversation shows is that I can be just as petty as my overprotective brothers. “What did you do with the tarantula, anyway?” I asked, turning my attention to Lee when it is clear that Fred, George, and I are not ready to let things go. It’ll be fine. Whenever we do have little tiffs they tend to be forgotten by the next morning.

Lee visibly deflates. “McGonagall took him. Said he was too distracting to bring to school as a pet. She’s sending him back to my mum in the morning”. Lee looks at all of us individually. “If people would just spend some time with him, they would see that Mr. Spider is actually very friendly”. He’s looking for sympathy. But he won’t get any from me.

The hall is called to attention with the arrival of McGonagall and the first-years. As they file in, I can’t help but notice how tiny they all look. Did Fred, George, and I look that small when we first started? Ron is easy to see thanks to his flaming red hair. Next to him stands exactly who I want to see my little brother with. Harry, is a few shorter than my brother but he is still noticeable due to the messy nature of his hair. Good. It seems that those two hit it off without any problems. Standing in front of the two Eleven-year-old boys I can even make out the very bushy head of one Hermione Granger. I allow myself to take a deep breath. No major changes as of yet. All is good with the world.

The sorting that follows goes exactly as I expected. Hannah Abbot goes to Hufflepuff, and so does Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Susan Bones. Terry Boot goes to Ravenclaw along with Lisa Turpin, Padma Patil, and Anthony Goldstein. Draco is accepted into Slytherin accompanied by his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle. And Harry, after much contemplation from the sorting joins Gryffindor house. Gryffindor house also welcomes, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Parvati Patil, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, and Seamus Finnigan. Everything is going exactly as Jessie remembers. Not a single thing is out of place. That is, until it’s Ron’s turn. “Weasley, Ronald” McGonagall calls out. Ron is the second to last student to be sorted. So, it is easy to see him swallow his nerves with one big gulp as he approaches the sorting hat. Honestly, I am surprised that he is that nervous. I mean, we told him he would have to fight a troll. When clearly all he has to do is wear a hat. You’d think with that lowered expectation, your nerves wouldn’t be that bad. Ron climbs on top of the stool and glances upward as McGonagall lowers the hat. Just like the others, it covers Ron’s eyes. Silence fills the halls as I wait for the hat to yell out Gryffindor. Seconds tick by and I start to grow worried. I glance at Fred and George, but neither of them looks concerned. They know that Ron is supposed to be sorted into Gryffindor. But what they don’t know is that, according to Jessie, Ron’s sorting was supposed to be one of those short ones that happen as soon as the hat touches his head. They don’t know that something has changed. A full minute passes. At that minute I cannot help but think about how all of our plans will be thrown off if Ron isn’t in Gryffindor. How much Harry would change if Ron isn’t in the same house. Would Ron have even fallen in love and married Hermione if he wasn’t in Gryffindor? When the sorting hat opens its mouth my heart stops. It doesn’t start up again until it yells out “Gryffindor!”

The table breaks out in cheers as another redhead comes to join us. Percy even stands up to congratulate our youngest brother. George turns to me and gives me a thumbs-up as Ron takes a seat next to Harry. All is going well, is what George is trying to signal. I subtly shake my head. Something is different. I don’t know the direct cause of it, but it is most likely my fault. There is no Holly Weasley in the books. But in this world, I have been around for all of Ron’s life. As far as I know, I am the only thing that’s different about my Ron and the Ron from the books. Somehow, I’ve altered Ron Weasley.

* * *

I share a dorm room with Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and two other girls who are just too unimportant for me to bother remembering. Angelina and Alicia are the only girls I would consider to my friends. They talked an insufferable amount about quidditch. But other than that, they’re not that bad. Like we did the previous year, the three of us bypass the usual reunions in the common room and head straight for our dorm. This way Oliver Wood can’t corner Angelina and Alicia and inform of a ridiculously early quidditch practice for the first day that we are back. And I can avoid any more Weasley-Jordan Shenanigans. After a train ride full of them, I‘ve had my fill for the next few weeks. Jumping on to each of our beds we immediately start with the summer conversations. Angelina got to go see the Holyhead Harpies play. “Their uniforms were so form-fitted. They were so cute” Angelina gushed.

Alicia toured Morocco with her family. “People use a lot more spices in their cooking outside of the UK” Alicia shared. When it is my turn, I don’t have a whole lot to say. Charlie moved out. Percy became a prefect. “But what did you do?” Alicia asked, rolling her eyes at the play by play of my siblings.

I shrug. I didn’t do anything as exciting as Morocco. But if she waits two years then I will be able to tell her stories about Egypt. “I read a few books,” I said, trying to wrack my brains for anything else. Honestly, I was too worried about the future to really pursue anything fun. “Umm”, I finally said after I thought about it. “Mum taught me how to make her famous upside-down cake”.

Angelina groans in an overly dramatic fashion. “That’s so boring” She complained, brushing her thick shiny brown hair out of her face. She pins me with her eyes. “we need to get you a boyfriend so you’ll have something juicy to tell us”. She said in a matter of fact tone.

Instantly my face heats up. Is romance the only thing teenage girls think about? “I don’t need a boyfriend” I argued. “I already have six brothers. There isn’t any more room for boys in my life”.

“Oh, come on,” Alicia said. “We’re allowed to visit Hogsmeade this year. Now’s the perfect time to get a boyfriend. We’ll finally be able to go on dates instead of just studying in the library!”

Merlin! These girls are completely boy obsessed. I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop an oncoming headache. To me, it just seems wrong for thirteen-year-olds to date. Jessie didn’t date until she was fifteen. Though I suppose Ginny is thirteen when she goes to the Yule Ball with Neville. Though that wasn’t really dating…. Bah! I don’t know what the right answer is. “Well, what about you two?” I asked, trying to deflect. “If you’re so interested in boys there must be someone you like”. Of course, at some point, I know Angelina will develop feelings for Fred. But I don’t know when exactly that will happen. I can guarantee one thing though. Neither of them has a crush on Wood. It’s just too hard to love someone who makes you run laps on a quidditch pitch in the rain.

“Cedric Diggory,” They both said at the same time with absolutely no shame. Okay, that’s fair. Who hasn’t had a thing Diggory? With abs like his, Diggory could open his own harem if he was so inclined.

When I am silent just a little too long Angelina said. “We don’t be shy. There must be someone you like. We told you who me like so you have to tell us who you like”.

I sigh loudly. Oh, the many rules of being a teenage girl. This was something that Jessie did not miss. But I start to think. Who do I like? Immediately I discard Lee Jordan. Maybe in a few years if he matures. The problem with Lee is that he is too interested in girls. Meaning, he doesn’t just like one girl. He likes every girl that is of an appropriate age that walks past him. No, if I have to like someone, it would be someone who has more monogamist intentions. Someone who has good manners. A sense of humor is a must too. It's practically a requirement in my family. Percy is the only exception. Maybe my dream guy would be good at potions. He’d be well groomed too. I started to play with the hand that Pucey had held early this night. When I realized what I was doing I immediately stopped. Yeah, no. I am not going down this path. I do not like Adrian Pucey. Holly’s adolescent body likes Pucey. I, as mostly Holly but with an influence of Jessie, do not like Adrian Pucey. “Professor Snape,” I said. Just to get the girls to drop the subject. Nothing is more effective in killing a mood than dropping Snape’s name into a conversation.

“Snape!” Angelina and Alicia recoiled. Their noses scrunched up in disgust.

I nod my head to confirm. “Yup. There’s just something about the way the man handles a cauldron. He’s so confident, and smooth. And the way his robes billow around him as he walks. The man could model for a living”. But I fail to say all of that with a straight face. I cracked up when I got to the part about handling a cauldron.

Alicia throws one of her pillows at me. “Holly Weasley! You’re going to fall in love one of these days” she warned. But Alicia is laughing too. At least they aren’t annoyed with me for not having an adolescent crush. Even Angelina is laughing.


	6. Something We Didn't Consider

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Something We Didn't Consider

The first thing Fred, George, and I did when we got our schedules was comparing them. Hunched over plates of eggs and toast we study each individual time slot, last night's disagreement completely forgotten. People always say that blood is thicker than water, meaning that the ties we have to our families are stronger than any conflict. But what they don't understand is that shared blood is a type of solidarity that you're born with. Even more so when you are a multiple.

This is the first year that we've compared schedules. In the first two years, we shared every class, every meal, every free period, and every detention. The only times I had to myself were trips to the girls' lavatory, and seeking refuge in my dorm room. Later on, once Fred and George started quidditch, I also had those times as well. But this year is the first what we will have different classes. Well, one different class. "Looks like Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy is during the period before lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays," George said as he sits in the middle between Fred and me.

"And a free period after the lunch hour on those days" I observed.

"With Ancient Ruins and History of Magic following" Fred summarized.

"Merlin, those are going to be some very boring afternoons", George said.

Fred shrugged. "Nothing a couple of blech bombs strategically placed in a few deserving book bags won't solve".

I ignore them. Good to know these two have their priorities straight. "What class do we have first?" I asked, changing the subject before we could divulge down the very illuminating topic of smelly pranks.

The boys humor me. But, judging by their posture, I should be very careful about where I leave my book bag for the next few days. "DADA with Quirrell," said George. He looks up from our schedules, to look at me. "You going to be okay Holls?" His question is vague but I know what he means. Am I going to be okay with sitting in a class taught by a semi-possessed teacher? Though I think a better question would be if he will be okay. Will Fred be okay? Generally speaking, I don't prefer to be in the dark about things. But for this specific situation ignorance regarding our two-faced professor may actually be bliss.

I glance over to the staff table on the raised daises. It's not full this morning. Dumbledore is absent, so is Quirrell, and the head of houses are busy passing out schedules. For my first two years of school, I spent many meals sneaking suspicious glances at Quirrell. During those two years, he was the Muggle Studies teacher. So, Fred, George, and I have never had the chance to have Quirrell as a teacher before. I don't remember when Quirrell became…. acquainted with you-know-who. Jessie doesn't have any memories of reading that information. But considering that this will be his first year of teaching DADA (Not sure how a muggle studies teacher got the DADA position. But that is a different matter entirely.) Quirrell met you-know-who over the summer. I nod slowly. "I'm going to have to be fine," I said, answering George's question. "We're all going to have to be fine. But let's agree that we should never be alone with Quirrell at any given time". I said as I looked at Fred and George in turn. Both have straight faces and their eyes are focused. Good, they're taking this seriously then.

"Agreed," George said.

The same moment that Fred said, "Buddy system. Yeah, good idea". There's a break in our conversation as we take some time to eat. It's best to eat breakfast when it is warm, after all. Cold eggs taste awful. Only a couple of mouthfuls in, Fred has a thought. "Will Perce and Ron be okay?"

George and I still, our forks halfway to our mouths. It doesn't sit well with any of us that our siblings will be sitting unawares with the darkest wizard of our time only a few feet away. But not knowing is exactly what will spare them. "Yeah," I said, placing down my fork on the edge of my plate. "They don't know anything and you-know-who is only interested in the stone. Harry is the only student that should be targeted this year". I try to assure myself. I'm not worried about Percy. Out of all of the Weasleys, except maybe Charlie, he is the one that remains unscathed throughout the whole series. I'll have to worry about him during the events of the fifth book, and maybe the sixth if that doesn't change. But that will be more of a worry for his emotional well-being rather than his life. Ron is in the most danger out of all of us Weasleys this year. Even then the only thing that happened to him that is concern worthy is that chess game he'll sacrifice himself in. If we don't do something to change that. Though Ron is different than he was in the books. I learned that last night. How different though? I couldn't say. I'll have to watch him. I haven't even told Fred and George yet.

"If you hadn't told us all of this" George starts to say as he also puts down his fork.

"Then there would be no danger for us either" Fred concluded. I can only nod. Guilt makes it hard to speak. They are absolutely correct.

"At least for this year" George adds on.

"Would you have preferred if I hadn't said anything?" I asked softly, crossing my arms to hug myself. It was selfish to let them know everything; to tell Fred that he was going to die. I've stolen their peace of mind. I just couldn't handle it on my own anymore. It was maddening to know the world's secrets and having no one to talk to about it. Besides, I remind myself, trying to justify my actions. Everything I've done has been about preventing Fred's death. Fred, one of my precious fellow triplets who I know that I cannot live without.

"No," Fred and George said at the same time with voices that were probably a little too loud for what we are discussing.

"You can tell us anything".

"Whenever and wherever you like".

"Or whenever you feel a need too."

"Honestly, Jolly Holly you can't handle this on your own" George said, shaking off the gravity of the situation.

"You're too impatient". Said Fred. No, I'm not.

"Too impulsive". That's rich coming from them.

"Besides, this is a three-man kind of job," George said.

"You need us." They finished together. That I do. That I do.

* * *

Lee Jordan, ever the late riser, meets up with us right as we head into the DADA classroom. "Back of the room?" George asked as we filed in behind the other third-year Gryffindors.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Fred said, leading us to the back row of desks on the left side of the classroom. In order, we go Fred, Lee, George, and then me. Giving me the opportunity to brush shoulders with Pucey as he passes us in favor of a sit at the front of the right side of the room. Our eyes meet briefly. But Briefly is all we are allowed.

"No," George said, grabbing me by my left upper to pull me in front of him.

"No?' What do you mean no?" I asked as I take my new position between Lee and George. I hadn't done anything!

"Stick to the plan Holls", George said as we both sit down.

"What plan?" Lee asked as he dug out some parchment from his bag.

"To keep Holly away from Slytherins". Fred responded, effectively keeping the real plan a secret.

I flinch at the feeling of a foot nudging my foot under the table. My eyes widen. No! "I can help with that". Lee said, sounding just a little too happy. No! I think as I pick up my assaulted foot only to stomp it on Lee's toes. He crumbles in his seat, almost banging his head on the desktop. If he has half a mind, Lee's learned his lesson.

Sitting in the row in front of us, Angelina and Alicia turn around. "Are you guys talking about Snape?" Angelina asked with a giggle inserted between her words. They must have heard us.

"Holly fancies him" Alicia added, snickering as she spoke.

I close my eyes, longing to never open them again. What happens in the girls' dorm is supposed to stay in the girls' dorm. From my left and my right, I can feel Lee and George freeze. "What?" Fred asked, sounding absolutely flabbergasted. "And here I thought we only had to worry about Pucey" He mumbled to himself, but loud enough that we all heard him.

"Pucey?" Alicia asked. Her voice suggesting that Fred had just told her something rather juicy.

"It's an inside joke," I said, slowly opening my eyes and completely ignoring Alicia. Though if she takes the Pucey comment to be an inside joke as well, then that is just fine. I look at my brothers and my friends with my best pleading look. Hopefully, the message is clear; please drop this! Though I know better. They may give me a respite, but this conversation is far from over.

"W-welcome" Quirrell started as he brought the class to order. I hummed to myself as I pulled out a quill and ink bottle from my bag. Soon to be followed by parchment. I forgot about the stuttering. Makes sense though. I would be stuttering too if there was a psychopath under my turban. "This Y-year we will be f-f-focusing on d-dangerous beasts and how to-to protect ourselves". At the end of his sentence, Quirrell smiles at the lot of us. As if that sentence was a big accomplishment for him. "An E-exciting year. Boy and girls". Quirrell turns his back to the class to write on the blackboard. "W-we'll dis-discuss the curriculum and my expec-expectations today. And s-start learning next cl-class".

I had just dated the top corner of my parchment when I first noticed something was off. Jessie's face flashed in the forefront of my mind. Glossy Brown hair, high cheekbones, brown eyes, too much make-up on her face, and a nose that she was never fond of. My right hand, my writing hand, stills. That's never happened before. Jessie doesn't just pop up. I have to purposefully think about that part of me. I shake my head and try to focus on the classroom rules Quirrell is writing on the board. Probably just my subconscious, I tell myself. A lot has been underfoot as of late. I start to make a header. But it feels weird that I am writing with my right hand. Have I always written with my right hand? As if I am looking down at myself from a window, I transfer my quill from my right hand to my left. That feels better. But… I stare at my left hand. At my left hand. My left hand. Is it my left hand?

As if shocked I am jolted back to myself. What the hell? What a stupid thought. Of course, it's my hand. If not mine, whose would it be? I turn back to the task of writing down Quirrell's classroom rules, returning my quill to my right hand in the process. I'm not sure why I am bothering. Classroom rules are always the same. Don't talk unless called on. No more than one unexcused tardiness per term. All late assignments will be docked points unless given an extension.

A flash of light, and suddenly I am sitting at a table in the bio lab at my university. My classmate and roommate, Lena sits next to me. We were examining a cow's eyeball with the goal of removing the lens. I was holding a scalpel in my left hand. There's a hand on my shoulder. But Lena isn't touching me. And there isn't anyone else around me. So, who is touching me?

"Holly" a voice whispered. I know that voice. But it isn't Lena. Lena doesn't say anything. Who's talking? Who is Holly?

Flash. My quill is in my right hand. I'm sitting in DADA. George is currently shaking my shoulder. That's right. I have to blink my eyes rapidly before I can focus. I am Holly. George is my brother. I think as I turn to look at him. How long have we been in class? I thought we were at breakfast. And who the hell is Lena? My left-hand start to twitch, as if responding to the name. "Your nose is bleeding, Holls" George whispered, eyes leaking concern. Nose? I use my left hand to run a finger under my nostrils. The last time I had a bloody nose was when I got hit in the face by a rogue quaffle when bill and Charlie were having a game of catch in the yard. But when I pull my hand away from my nose there is blood. Ruby red and shining. How did that happen? As if I am watching a slideshow on fast forward in a pitch-black room, images dash across my vision. Jessie. Knife. Holly. The knife being plunged into a bare stomach. Scream. Lots of screaming. Charlie chasing little Holly around the pond. Jessie shopping. Jessie getting into the driver's seat of a car. Arthur tucking Holly into bed along with Fred and George. Knife. Jessie crying. Holly Crying. Blood dripping off a knife.

"Sir" George said. He still has one arm on my shoulder, but the other is raised in the air. "Something's wrong-"

* * *

I open my eyes to see a tall vaulted ceiling. I must be lying on my back. But why? My limbs feel heavy and I have absolutely no motivation to move them. Where am I? This isn't the third-year girls' dorm. It's far too airy. "Holly!" A shrill voice calls out. Instinctual, I turn my head to the direction of the voice. On my right side is the very disheveled form of my Mum. Mum lunges over me, her frizzy graying red hair swishing over her shoulders. I almost get a mouthful of it as Mum pulls me up by my shoulders and into her arms.

"Mum?" I asked, head feeling a bit cloudy. "What are you doing here?" I should probably hug her back. But that would involve lifting my arms… Meh, too much effort. It's good to see her though. Even if it has only been a day or so.

Mum squeezes me as if she's afraid I'm not actually there. How silly. "Holly, you nearly made my heart stop" Mum expressed. "Getting notified from the school like that. I didn't know what to think".

Notified from the school? What for? "Why would the school write to you? I swear Mum, I haven't gotten any detentions yet". I mumbled sleepily into her shoulder. I just woke up. Why am I so tired? Wait… Why was I asleep in the first place?

Mum lowers me down on what feels to be a stack of pillows. So, I'm in a bed then. That makes sense. I doubt Mum would let me sleep on the floor. "You don't remember?" She asked. Mum doesn't wait for a response before filling me in. "Dear, you had a fit in class". A fit? I give Mum a skeptical look. I wouldn't throw a tantrum in class. I haven't had one of those since Percy accidentally spilled pumpkin juice on my favorite doll when I was seven. "you fell right out of your chair and starting seizing on the floor!" Oh, that type of fit. But why? I've never done that before.

A little more intrigued, I look around the room. There are multiple beds, and it's clean. Very clean. "I am in the hospital wing". I said, intending it as a statement but it comes out sounding like a question. Things are coming together now. I was in class. I had a seizure and was brought to the hospital wing. Mum was notified and now we are both here. "What caused it?" I asked, looking back at Mum.

But she doesn't have the answer. "You gave us quite the scare, Ms. Weasley," said a new voice as the figurehead of Hogwarts approaches my hospital bed. He's wearing his infamous purple robes and half-moon spectacles. And here is someone I have been trying to avoid for the last two years. "I dare say that this start of term will be one for the record books". His eyes sparkle. How does he do that? Dumbledore turns to my Mum, maintaining his calm disposition. "I have been informed by Madam Pomfrey that Holly will make a full recovery. She'll require a couple of dosages of an anti-seizure draught and plenty of rest. But she should be able to return to classes in a couple of days". Mum relaxes, exhaling out of her mouth. "But there are some concerns that I must bring to your attention" At once, Mum is sitting ramrod straight. "Prior to the seizure, your sons described Holly as acting confused and distracted as if in a daze. Her nose started to bleed seconds before the seizure. These are symptoms of someone who has had their mind invaded."

Mum gasped and reached out to grab my hand. Even though it is currently under a bedsheet. Invaded mind? Invaded mind? Everything clicks into place. Aw, crap. Amongst all of our planning, Fred, George, and I had forgotten a rather alarming detail. "Legilimency? At Hogwarts? And who would do that to a child?" Mum bemoaned. I can think of someone who would have no qualm with invading the mind of a student.

"A disturbing thought, Molly. I ensure you that I will make a full investigation of the manner". I don't know if Dumbledore looking into things will help or hurt us in the long run. Bugger! How could I have overlooked such an obvious detail? If I could kick myself I would. "But that is not the only thing this event has revealed. In most cases, a victim of legilimency does not show any signs that they have been assaulted. Visible symptoms are, historically, a sign that the victim has a very confusing mind. One that the attacker cannot sort through", Dumbledore explains very calmly. As if he was merely teaching a class. "The deeper the attack goes, the more confused the mind becomes. Hence all of the damage". Oh hell, I know where this is going. Abort! I think. Abort! Abort! Abort! But there is nothing I can do. I'm stuck lying on a bed surrounded by two adults. If I were to suddenly get up and bolt there would be even more questions. "On record, the witches and wizards that process such confusing minds are the ones who remember a past life".

Both Mum and Dumbledore look at me. I open my mouth to say something but decided against it. I am to blame for everything that's happened to me. After all, I am the idiot that decided to play with Pandora's box. But now I have to figure a way out of this without revealing to Dumbledore that I know more than I should. "Holly?" Mum prompted.

Pandora's box, indeed. "Jessie" I answered. Choosing to look solely at Mum. "Her name was Jessie," I said trying to keep my voice flat. "She was an American muggle. The youngest child of a single mum. Had one older brother whom she didn't speak with too often. She graduated from the University of Nebraska with a degree in political science. But she didn't go into politics. Or whatever it is you do with a political science degree. Instead, she ended up working for a media company as an office administrator. Jessie was killed when she was twenty-five years old. I don't know who did it. I can never remember the killer's face".

Mum gasped, and her face had paled a bit. A glance in Dumbledore's direction shows him to be as composed as ever. Is there a chance that Dumbledore knows more than he is letting on? I sure hope not. That's one plot twist I don't want to work out. "The last thing I remembered was being stabbed multiple times. I begged and pleaded, but it didn't work. Then the first thing I remember as Holly… well, I'd rather not say". There's no reason to tell my mother that my first memory in this new life was breastfeeding. And the headmaster defiantly doesn't need to know that.

"Oh, Holly" Mum said as she reached over with the hand that isn't holding mine, and touches my cheek. I lean into it. It's warm, soft, and smells like freshly baked bread. "Why didn't you tell us? We could have helped you find peace".

I should tell her that she did help me. So did Dad and all of my siblings. Being in a big, active family was the best therapy. But there needs to be a reason why I didn't tell my parents about Jessie. If there isn't one, I run the risk of Dumbledore inquiring further. "You love Holly," I said, carefully forming my words. "I wasn't sure if there was room for Jessie," I said. But then I shrug. "I mean, technically we are the same person. I am Jessie. And I am Holly-"

Mum cuts me by pulling me into her arms. "You silly girl. Not love my own daughter. What utter nonsense". Mum scolded at the same time as she comforted. Truly a multitasker, this woman. "I love every bit of you," Mum said forcefully. "Holly or Jessie or whoever else you end up being". Good to know.

Dumbledore leaves shortly after. He promises once more to get to the bottom of who could be using legilimency in his school. I cannot help but feel that I've just dodged a bullet.


	7. Our First Hurdle

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Our First Hurdle

The severity of the situation hit me as the aftermath of my ordeal faded. With the foggy feeling evaporating from my mind I found the ability to worry about what was now unknown. It was like putting on glasses for the first time and realizing that you needed them. You-know-who had tried to look inside of my head. I don't know how successful he was. Judging by the seizure, he probably wasn't. But that doesn't mean he didn't get any indication about future events from my noggin. And then there is Fred and George. The only two people who know what I know. Or at least an extent of it. They wouldn't have a past life to shield them from legilimency. You-know-who could have been in their minds and we'd have no way of knowing. Damn! We were careless. You-know-who was probably looking into students' minds out of boredom. I'd be bored too if I had to live through a second round of DADA curriculum after being one of the darkest wizards in the world, and stuck in the back of someone's head of who used to be a muggle studies professor. Discovering Jessie was probably the most entertaining thing to happen to him since he latched onto Quirrell. I can only hope that my mind was the first Weasley mind he tried to invade. That he didn't see beyond Jessie's muggle existence. Otherwise, he is going to know exactly how his plans fail and how he is revived. A careless oversight on my part may have just cost myself, Fred, and George our advantage.

But I can't dwell too deeply. Not with Mum sitting next to my bedside; watching my every move. I am more touched by her presence than annoyed by her hovering. It always feels good for one self-esteem when family members drop everything they were doing in favor of rushing to your aid. I asked her what she had done with Ginny. There was no way that she would have left the ten-year-old home alone. And if Dad had managed to get off of work due to one of his children collapsing, he would have been here as well. Apparently, Great Aunt Muriel had agreed to wait with Ginny at the Burrow. Poor Ginny. There is only so much tea and familiar insults a person can take.

Mum was holding herself together well enough. She didn't allow herself to ask the questions that were clearly on her mind. I wouldn't hold it against her if she did ask. She thought she knew me. Me, as in Holly. Her eldest daughter who she carried inside herself for eight months. Fred, George, and I were born a month early. Triplets are never carried to full term. Now she'll want to get to know Jessie as if she was a stranger. Not someone's entity was deeply entwined with my identity. But I don't like divulging into Jessie's details. If I go too far in, I see gory things that I would prefer to forget. Instead, she kept muttering things to herself under her breath. Things about other injuries I could have possibly acquired by falling to the floor. How she had been worried half to death. Ha! Half to death. There's an expression that always leaves an ironic after taste in my mouth. But she always managed to work herself back around to who in the castle could possibly be so inclined to violate the minds of students.

"Mum," I said, as I pushed myself up into a sitting position with my elbows. With time, the lethargy feeling had slipped out of my limbs and it no longer felt like such a task to move. Mum hurriedly works to prop up the pillows on the bed so I'd have something to support my sitting position. I don't continue talking until I am leaning against said pillows. "I know you are going to tell Dad about all of this. But can we skip the part about my past life being a muggle? I don't want to explain computers to him".

Mum barks out a surprised laugh. "Oh, Holly. You are something else", she said, reaching over to pat me on my hand. "I don't keep secrets from your dad but I'll see what I can do to keep him from pestering you with questions when you are at school". Mum promised with a little bit of mischief in her smile. Believe it or not, Fred and George got their sense of humor from Mum. I was shocked when I first figured that one out.

* * *

The start of the lunch period began with Madam Pomfrey bustling over to Mum and me with a platter stacked high with turkey sandwiches, and a small pile of napkins. Very firmly, she placed everything down on the bedside table. "Professor Dumbledore has request lunch be sent up to you," She said. Though who she was referring to, Mum or I remained unclear.

I eyed the stack of sandwiches carefully. "That seems like too much food for just the two of us". I said. An observation on my part, but also seeking more information.

Madam Pomfrey humphed and placed her hands on her hips. "Only two people?" She said before walking away with a shake of her head.

Her comment made more sense with the onslaught of visitors that followed. Fred and George burst in first. They gallop straight for me, book bags swinging on their shoulders. Even with Mum yelling at them to "stop running!" Vaguely, I wondered what happened to my school bag. But it isn't a big loss in the light of things. There was nothing important in there.

"Holls, you raving lunatic" Fred said, as he leaned over my hospital bed to pull me into a jarring hug.

"Fred" Mum warned.

"Don't ever do that again!" Fred demanded as he released me to George.

"You were writhing on the floor like someone had used the torture curse on you". George described, hugging me with a little more care than Fred. "Your eyes rolled into the back of your head!"

George lets me go and I slump back into the propped-up pillows. Both boys have adopted looks of frowning disapproval and alarm as they peer down at me from the opposite side of Mum. There is much that we need to say. All three of us know it. But we can't say any of it with an audience. "Why do you make it sound like it was my fault" I whined.

"Oh" Mum fussed, sending her identical sons one of her looks. "No one thinks it's your fault Holly".

Percy and Ron arrived next. "Sorry," Percy said as he walked with purpose. As if he was merely late to tea. "It took me a while to find Ron after I was informed". Percy walked over to the side of the bed that Mum was on to give her a half hug. Placing his book bag on the floor in the process. Leaving Ron to stand at the foot of the bed, looking lost. "I thought it would be better if he heard it from me instead of someone else?"

I take a moment to study Ron's face as Percy's words sank in. His freckles seem more prevalent than normal. And he keeps looking at me and then away when we make eye contact. As if unnerved. You'd think I was a corpse the way he is acting. "Someone else?" I asked, turning my head to look at my older brother. His words finally registering.

Percy nods once. "The whole school is talking about the girl who had a fit in Quirrell's class". Percy informed me in a very matter-of-fact manner.

I sigh deploringly. Merlin, bloody fantastic. I was happy with my school reputation being 'the other Weasley triplet'. Now, until this blows over, I'll be 'the girl who has fits'. "How did it spread so fast?" I asked, looking around at all of my siblings.

Percy shrugs. "I didn't find out you were the girl until after my Charms class. Professor Flitwick pulled me aside and said there was a family matter that needed my attention."

"You know those two girls you room with?" George asked, drawing my attention to him. "not Angelina and Alicia, but the other two. What are their names?" He asked no one in particular.

I flap a hand at George's question. "I don't know. They're too unimportant for me to care".

"Holly" Mum scolded.

"Right. Well, they've been blabbering about what happened in Quirrell's class all morning" Fred said. "They've been describing it as you suddenly going barmy".

I groan aloud. Stupid idle-minded gossips. "But you're okay?" Ron asked. I look over at him and upon eye contact, the tips of his ears turn pink. At least he can look at me now. "I mean, you're not going to…" Ron trailed off as he reached up to scratch the back of his head. Cute.

"Yes," Percy picked up the mantle. "Will they send you to St. Mungos?" He asked, looking between Mum and me. Assuming that one of us would be able to answer him.

"No" Mum spoke up first. "Your sister just needs a bit of rest, but she can stay in school" she assured.

The twins and Ron sign in relief. But Percy seems more concerned than before. "Is that wise? Aren't seizures a serious ailment?" He asked, adjusting his glasses like it's some kind of nervous tick.

I shake my head at him. "umm. What caused my seizure wasn't due to illness". I can see the question in his eyes. I can see it in all of their eyes. But I don't want to scare Ron. I don't want to worry Percy. And I want to have this conversation with Fred and George behind closed doors so we can discuss what it all means.

Mum pats my hand again, signaling that she'll explain. "Your sister was attacked". She flat out said. In a family of ten, you tend to not waste words. All four of them gasped but at different octaves.

"In the middle of class? How?" Percy demanded to know. He had his chest puffed out, as if personally offended. No doubt prefect Percy was about to make an appearance.

"It wasn't a physical attack" Mum goes on. "And we don't know who is responsible yet". I glance meaningfully at Fred and George. I do know who's responsible. "But whoever it was used legilmency".

Ron and the twins paled considerably, but for different reasons I suspect. Up until this point, legilimency has only been something evil from storybooks. We all knew it was real, but it hasn't been an actual threat before today. "But" Percy contemplates. "Legilimency doesn't leave a mark. Usually, the victim doesn't even know that their mind has been broken into. Why would that cause Holly to have a fit?"

Mum gives me a searching look, seeking permission on a rather personal matter. Begrudgingly I wave a hand at her. "It's okay," I said, resigned. Jessie got me into this mess. And I am going to have to use her as a cover to stay in this game. "Fred and George already know". I admitted. "There's no point to keep it a secret from the rest of the family".

Mum purses her lips with the new information. I hope she isn't offended that I trusted Fred and George with knowledge of my past life before her. But Mum presses on. "There are few people who have adverse reactions to legilimency. These people generally have a past life that they remember, and your sister is one of them".

At that moment it was like I became a specimen at a zoo. Percy opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water as he adjusted his glasses some more. "That's extremely rare" he finally settled on.

Ron hasn't blinked since Mum's big reveal. He just keeps starring at me as if I've grown a second head. Well, doesn't he know how to make a girl feel special. "But," Mum said swiftly and pointedly. "She's still the same Holly. Nothing has changed". My sentiments exactly.

* * *

My brothers get sent back to class after a few turkey sandwiches, and Mum heads home a little before dinner. She felt safe doing so once she was assured that the staff wouldn't allow for anymore legilimency to take place (as if they had that power) and that I wouldn't keel over anytime soon. She also felt that it would be cruel to leave Ginny alone with Great Aunt Muriel any longer. Madam Pomfrey gave me the first dosage of the anti-seizure draught. It was this bubbling purple mixture. It tasted like brussels sprouts and felt like slime as it went down. For dinner, I was provided with kidney pie and a glass of milk. Other than that, I was left alone. Alone with thoughts about how I could potentially be the catalyst to the destruction of the wizarding world. Merlin, wouldn't that be something to see on a resume. Left by myself with nothing to do, not even homework, I can't put off thinking about the inevitable. Fred, George, and I were going to have to attend DADA again. We would have to be in the same room as you-know-who. And we were woefully unprepared. And here I had been thinking that the three of us would be safe at least until Umbridge arrived. Even if we changed things around. That, Jessie's knowledge would give us an advantage. How foolish.

During the night, long after Madam Pomfrey had dimmed the lights, 22% of my family came to see me. The soft glow of a well-casted Lumos spell is what alerted me to their arrival. Quickly, I ruled out that it wasn't Quirrell coming to rip every bit of knowledge from my mind. He shouldn't be brazening enough to approach me with Madam Pomfrey only a shouting distance away. And I know who has come to see me the moment I see that it is two people sneaking in.

Working in tandem, Fred pulls the curtains around my bed area closed as George whispered, "nox" canceling out Lumos. Leaving us with only the dim lighting of the hospital wing lanterns. "We'll have to whisper," George said, coming to sit on my right. "Otherwise Madam Pomfrey will hear us".

"But we'll keep a lookout," Fred said, waving an activated marauders' map in my face as he sat down on my left. I nod at them to show I was following. Good to see that they at least have a plan. I've been going around in circles since I started thinking about the mess that we are in.

"You-know-who did it," they said at the same time, phrasing it as a statement.

"Yeah". I bit my lip and looked down. "I should have been able to predict something like this. I mean, why wouldn't a deranged psychopath kill time by exploring people's minds". I mourned for my lack of foresight. Ugh. "I knew you-know-who was a legilimens, but I didn't think it would be a problem this early on. And not anything we'd have to worry about. In the books, it wasn't a concern until Harry sees Dad gets attacked in the department of mysteries".

"What?" George asked in a loud whisper.

"That's the type of stuff you should be leading with, Holls," Fred said. His face is scrunched up in a glare. But it isn't an angry one. If anything, it looks like he is in pain.

"Sorry!" I whispered as loud as I could as I covered my eyes with my hands. "It's a very long and detailed story. There's too much to remember in one sitting". I explained, with frustration leaking into my voice. I will never forgive myself if someone suffers due to my negligence.

"But it isn't a story anymore" George reinforced. "It's our lives".

"Our family".

"And you said it yourself. You don't really know what is going to happen anymore".

"Since you're here".

"And there wasn't a Holly in the books you remember".

I pull my hands down, away from my eyes. But my hands remain on my face, touching my cheeks. "Would it be better if I wasn't here?" I pondered, looking at Fred and George in turn. In the same moment, both boys frowned. George reached over and flicked me in the forehead. "Owe!" I complained as loud as I dared, moving my hands to my forehead to cover the abused spot.

"If you ever say something like that again-" Fred started to say.

"We'll lock you in the attic with the ghoul until you come to your senses". George finished. I lower my hands once the stinging feeling goes away and we all calm ourselves. "You're our sister". George goes on to say.

"Our Jolly Holly".

"You are supposed to be here with us," they said together, very confidently.

I sigh once to collect myself. "Okay," I said. And we returned to the matter at hand. "From what we know, you-know-who at least attempted to look into my mind".

"We don't know what he saw," George said.

"But most likely, it didn't make any sense because I ended up seizing on the floor". I continued the Weasley thought train.

"So, you-know-who may know somethings that we know about the future. But not everything. Or he may not know anything at all thanks to Jessie". Fred said.

"Or," I said, swallowing nervously. "He could know everything if he looked into yours or George's mind before coming to mine".

"And we have no way of knowing if the git knows anything," George said, wrapping everything up. We are in a pickle. That's for sure. I wonder how that phrase got started. In a pickle. What a weird thing to say. A person could never fit inside a pickle. It must be a muggle saying, meaning that it comes from Jessie's life.

"We can't worry about what you-know-who does and doesn't know," Fred said after a moment. "That won't help us solve anything. Instead, we need to focus on making sure he does try to do that again".

I shrug, feeling absolutely lost. "The only way that I know of that can fit legilimency is occlumency. And we don't have enough time to learn how to use it before the next DADA class."

"We know" Fred and George said at the same time. Oh, do they now?

"After dinner, we went to the library and looked it up. We didn't even have to sneak into the restricted section." George said to give me context.

I crinkled my nose at both of them. "Really? You two went to the library without me?" I asked in disbelief. All of last year I had to beg them to go to the library with me. They kept saying that it was too quiet in there to be any fun.

"Yes, Holls" Fred drawled in a very dry voice. "Contrary to what you may believe. We do know how to read".

I glare back at Fred's tone of voice. No need to be snippy about it. But before we could erupt into a round of Weasley bickering, George stepped in to keep us on task. "The book we read said that the legilimens has to be close to the victim for it to work. If we can learn that from a book in one evening then the teachers must know that too" George reasoned.

"So, they'll suspect it is someone in our DADA class," I said, following George's line of logic. Maybe that's why Dumbledore had seemed like he knew more than he was letting on when he was talking to Mum. One can only hope.

Fred nods, confident in our analysis. "Us three can be ruled out automatically. Us being the target and her brothers".

"They'll have to rule out most students if not all," I said. "Legilimency is advanced magic. Third-years wouldn't be able to pull it off".

"So, that just leaves Quirrell," George concluded.

"But how would they prove that Quirrell is the one who did it…er, well, Quirrell's guest?"

"Doesn't matter" Fred answered, throwing me for a loop.

"Sorry?" I asked.

"Quirrell isn't going to want all of the extra attention. You said that once Snape starts to suspect him Quirrell started to make more bold attempts to get the stone". I nod once. Yes, that had been in the first book. "Attacking you a second time will just raise more suspicions," George explained further.

"So, you should be safe. Especially if we make what happened to you very public. If we let everyone in the school know that it was a legilimency attack. That might, might make your past life more common knowledge too, but we can try to talk around that if you like." Fred said with a shrug. "But that way everyone will know what happened if you have another fit, and everyone will be pointing fingers."

"Not exactly the best environment for someone who is trying to pull off a heist," George said.

I recline back to think. And here I thought Fred and George would be the only ones to ever know about Jessie. Now my whole family knows and potentially the school. "But that wouldn't protect you two". I argued. "If you-know-who entered your minds, we won't have a way to know".

Fred and George shrugged as if that thought had occurred to them but they weren't bothered by it. "The book also said that when a legilimens is in someone else's mind they are also open to an attack."

"Okay," I said slowly. Not sure where they were going with this. It's not like they could just assault Quirrell at any given time. And that wouldn't mean that you-know-who couldn't use legilimency. If anything, constantly being accosted might just piss him off. "So, what are you guys planning?"

Fred smiles. Uh oh. "Do you trust us?" He asked.

"Yes," I said, pulling out the S sound. I feel like in this context I should have said no. I mean, I do trust them and they know that. So, the answer will always be yes. But whatever their planning, I have a feeling I am not going to like it.

"Good," said George. He pulled out his wand and held the tip of it against my forehead. "Then you can leave everything to us".

"George, what are you doing?" I asked, a little shrilly. But come on! It's not every day your brother points his wand at you.

"We just need to know how big your head is" Fred assured. If he meant that to be comforting, then he's failing. I have so many questions following that statement.

"You can't measure someone's head with a wand" I whispered at the loudest possible volume.

"We know," They said at the same time.

"But it would be better if you were asleep for this". Fred said.

I try to move out of the way of George's wand. But considering that it is touching me, I can't. "Wait," I said.

"Nighty night Holls", Fred said.

"Somnium" George whispered the incantation, and consciousness faded.


	8. The Impenetrable Hats

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Impenetrable Hats

It's Wednesday when Madam Pomfrey deems me fit enough to rejoin the student body. I had no more visits from my family for the rest of my stay at the hospital wing. I wasn't surprised. Percy would have been busy with the start of his OWL year, prefect duties, and chasing after Ms. Clearwater. I figured Ron would be too scared to visit me on his own. After all, it's not common to learn that your big sister had been dead at some point. In any other circumstance, I would have expected more frequent visits from my fellow triplets. I'd had always been to visit them when they landed themselves in the hospital wing, as beaters are prone to doing. But considering that they had charmed me to sleep on Monday night, I imagine that they have been avoiding me, not wanting to face my ire. And they were right to keep their distance. Because they are going to pay.

However, I was visited by Angelina and Alicia on Tuesday. They supplied me with a lot of details that I wasn't told about. Angelina said that Quirrell had looked like he was about to piss himself when I was convulsing on the floor of his classroom. I wonder how much of that was an act, or if he was unaware of what you-know-who was doing while he was teaching. Alicia was more interested in telling me about how Pucey had popped out of his seat the moment I had fallen out of mine. It seems that, as Alicia described him, he was struck with concern. I guess she hadn't taken Fred's comment about Pucey as an inside joke then. But they did tell me something much more useful to me than the reactions of Quirrell and Pucey. According to them, Fred and George had been suspiciously absent from meals since I've been in the hospital wing. Now, one of the meals I know was spent here. When we had turkey sandwiches with Mum. But the other missing meals I know nothing about. But I bet it is correlated with why they induced me into a state of slumber.

By the time Madam Pomfrey released me I had already missed DADA and the start of the second period. Not that I minded terribly. Now I wouldn't have to face Quirrell until Friday. The trek to my second-period class leads me to the dungeons, empty-handed. My book bag had not been brought to the hospital wing. I can only hope that someone, be it one of my brothers or Angelina or Alicia thought to bring it back to Gryffindor tower. I enter the potions lab ten minutes late. Though based on the look on Snape's face you'd think I arrived during the last five minutes of class. "How nice of you to grace us with your presence, Ms. Weasley" Snape drawled as he stalked the front of the steam hazed classroom. Instructions for the wide-eye potion were written out on the board. It seemed that I had interrupted Snape right before he released us to do a practical.

The door creaked shut behind me as a classroom full of heads swiveled around to see the latecomer. Immediately I spot Fred and George sharing a cauldron at the back of the Gryffindor side of the room. They show me all of their teeth with broad grins. Completely unabashed by what transpired in the hospital wing. I glare at my brothers in response. These gits. But I can't dawdle. I straighten up to face Snape. Snape can't stand dawdling students. "Sorry sir, I was-"

"I know where you were, silly girl" Snape interrupts, pacing to the center of the front of the classroom. Where he stands menacing in front of the entire class. I quirk my tongue in my closed mouth, a reminder to maintain silence. Hard to believe that Snape was Jessie's favorite character. In my first life, I had envisioned him to be snarky, insensitive, and petty but with good intentions that made him endearing. But meeting him in person made it impossible to find any redeeming qualities. In fact, Snape seems much meaner in person than when reading about him. It caused me to have a complex my first year of school. I spent a whole year in potions class being entirely confused. "And as riveting it may seem in your small life" Snape paused himself, taking the time sneer at me. "Or perhaps not as small of a life as your peers". Oh, he knows. Dumbledore definitively confides in him. "But it is still no reason to disrupt my class". Snape said very slowly. As if him talking slowly is the only way I will be able to understand him. "Sit down, Ms. Weasley".

I wait until Snape's back is turned before rolling my eyes. So sorry, I think as I move to take a seat. I didn't realize being attacked would cause problems for others. As I had missed the first potions class of the year thanks to you-know-who, I don't have to worry about the usual scramble to find a lab partner. There's no Fred and George to try to stir me away from who I prefer as a lab partner. There's no Lee to try to get me to partner with him. In fact, I see that he is currently rather content sitting next to one of the no-name girls from my dorm. And there's no Patricia Stimpson to compete with. Not that she's ever proved to be much of a challenge. I walk briskly to the front of the classroom. Snape already talks to me like I am slow. It's better not to give him a reason to actually think that I am slow. I slide into the open seat on the Slytherin side of the classroom. Pucey nods at me in silent greeting. And I make sure that I return it. It feels nice knowing that Pucey had reserved the position of his lab partner for me in light of my recent absence. That he approved of the two of us working together so much that he refused other potential partners. I know Stimpson would be happy to be sitting where I am right now if given the chance.

"As I was saying," Snape said, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "We will start the practical portion of potions this year by starting with an easier brew. It was mentioned in your summer reading and I went over it during the lecture in Monday's class. As such, there will be no acceptable reason for any mishaps or failings." Snape took his time to stare down as many students as he could. But he seemed to favor the Gryffindor side of the classroom during this action. "You may begin," He said after he had intimidated enough students.

Pucey slid closer to me on our workbench so that our shoulders were touching. A wave of irrational anger directed at you-know-who swept over me all of a sudden. Because of that psycho, I missed the first potions class of the year. I wonder why that occurred to me all of a sudden. "We'll need six snake fangs, 4 measures of standard ingredient, six dried billywig stingers, and two wolfbane sprigs" Pucey listed off as he read from the blackboard. He sounded almost annoyed. Like potions were the last thing he wanted to discuss. And here I thought it was his favorite subject. "We can find standard ingredient and the billywig stingers in our kits. But we'll have to use Snape's stores for the Wolfsbane and snake fangs". Pucey planned out loud. "Do you have your kit with you?" He asked, looking down at me. I look away from the blackboard and my brown eyes connect with his grey ones. I don't think I have ever noticed before how long Pucey's eyelashes are.

"Sorry, no". I said after a slight moment. "I came straight from the hospital wing. I'll fetch the snake fangs and wolfsbane," I said, moving to stand and do just that.

But before I can push off from the table a hand covers mine It's warmer than the last time. "No," Pucey said, standing up as I returned to sitting. "As you said. You just came from the hospital wing. I'll go and you can use my kit" Pucey said in a very put-together manner. He removes his hand from on top of mine in favor of sliding his neatly organized potions kit over to my side of the table. "Shan't be long". Well, I would hope not.

After two years of this, Pucey and I have gotten it down to a system. I cut the ingredients and he measures out the correct amounts. He grinds the ingredients using the mortar and I stir the cauldron. He manages the flame and I keep track of the time. We both have our assigned roles. We play them so well that we don't even need to talk. Which means, that anything we do say to each other in potions class is done so merely because we want to.

"You were missed at the first arithmancy lesson". Pucey said as he added the snake fangs and standard ingredient to the mortar. He rubs his fingers over the top of it to make sure he gets all of the herbal mixture off of his fingertips.

I bend close to the cauldron. So close that my nose is practically inside it as I get it set up for brewing. "Oh?" I asked. "Did I miss anything important?"

"Nothing of too much consequence," Pucey said as he paused in grinding the ingredients in the mortar in favor of lighting the flame under the cauldron with a small incendio spell. "Though I can loan you my class notes".

I add water to the cauldron. Not enough for it to add any magical properties of its own, just enough to start the base of the potion. I'll have to wait for it to bubble before I can add the billywig stingers. "I'd appreciate that". I said right as Snape wanders over.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Snape peers into Pucey's mortar and then into our cauldron with his long-hooked nose. His scrutiny is silent. So Pucey and I fall silent too. After a moment, Snape gave us a very reserved "acceptable" before wandering away.

Pucey picks our conversation back up. "Though I fear what your brothers might do to me. I can feel them burning holes in the back of my head as we speak". He said very calmly as he finished grinding the ingredients in the mortar and dropped the six billywig stingers into the bubbling cauldron.

At his words, I look over my shoulder to see that thing one and thing two are indeed glaring menacingly at my potions partner as they haphazardly throw their ingredients into their cauldron. I narrowed my eyes at them. Oh, they are on thin ice. George notices me staring at them first. He nudges Fred and soon both of them are looking away from my corner of the room. I turn back around. "They won't do anything". I said as Pucey spooned out four measures of the grounded ingredient to the cauldron. "At least not today. They know that I am mad at them and they're smart enough not to make it worse".

Pucey quirked an eyebrow as he adjusted the heat of the flame. "Oh?" He asked as I started to stir our potion in a clockwise motion. "Whatever for?"

I purse my lips. But not out of anger, rather in exasperation. There's just no good way to tell someone that your brothers snuck into the hospital wing to cast a sleeping charm on you without your permission. Without more context, it would make absolutely no sense. "Family matter". I settled for as we both sat back to watch our potion brew. It would need to change into a darker hue before we could add the wolfsbane.

"Well," Pucey said after a while. "I hope you don't forgive them too quickly". Oh? Our eyes meet and Pucey smirks before deciding to let me in on the punchline. "I enjoy talking to you without the fear of retribution". Ohhhh.

* * *

Fred and George are waiting for me outside of the classroom at the end of potions. Pucey and I separate at the door. Him with the slight incline of his head and me with a wave. Slytherins and Gryffindors don't have the next class together. So, there is no point in traveling the halls together. "Did you have a good time, Jolly Holly?" Fred asked as he appeared on my right side.

"Seemed with Pucey had a lot to say," George said, taking his place on my left side. Walking shoulder to shoulder the three of us head up the dungeon stairs, heading for McGonagall's classroom.

"Yes," I said evenly. "I like talking to people who don't cast spells on me without my permission". I said, sending each of my brothers a pointed look.

"Old news, Holls," George said.

"It was Monday". I retorted.

"But you'll thank us for it soon enough", Fred assured, ignoring my comment.

As we reach the ground level, my curiosity beats out my anger. "So, what did you two do? Why did you need to know the size of my head? And why did I have to be asleep for it?"

We pause at the foot of the staircase that will take us up to McGonagall's classroom. Students of all different years pass by us. Some of them smile in greeting. Fred and George are pretty popular in this school. While others whisper behind their hands at the sight of me. I can imagine what they are saying. 'That's her. The one who had the fit'. An unimaginative lot really. Neither Fred nor George answers my questions. Instead, Fred reaches into his book bag and pulls out a pink monstrosity. Fred hands it to me, and I take it, utterly confused. It's a hat. Round with four flaps. Two of which are tied up at the sides with a neat little bow on top. "It's a hat," I said, after turning it around in my hands a couple of times.

"Yes," Fred agreed.

"Is the hat going to help?"

"Yes" answered George.

Clearly, I am missing something here. "But it's a hat".

"But not just any run of the muck hat" Fred argued as he started to dig in his book bag again.

"This is a hat of our own invention". George said as he copied Fred. "It is an impenetrable hat".

"Resistant to most magic".

Fred pulls out another hat of the exact same style as the one that I am holding, except his hat is red. George does the same with a blue hat. "With these on, you-know-who can't get in our heads" Fred explained as he and George placed the hats on their heads. If I wasn't so out of the loop, I'd laugh at the fashion statement my brothers are currently making.

"If he even tries, he'll experience the same thing that he experienced with you". George said. "Complete nonsense".

"But without the victim having a fit".

I turn the pink hat around once more. So, they needed to know how big my head was to get the right hat size? But that still doesn't really explain… anything. "How does it work?"

Both boys grinned, pleased as punch with themselves. "The hats are linked. Your hat is the connecting point. If you-know-who tries to go into any of our minds, your hat will activate and all he'll see is more images of Jessie. Images but not facts. When the hats not being attacked will send more Jessie memories at him, since his mind will be open" George explained. "He should have no clue where they're coming from, and he shouldn't be able to fight back without exposing Quirrell".

"And we made some of the memories a little more… fun using the daydream charm idea we've been throwing around. Also, we made sure that none of the memories we collected had any books or moving pictures in them. What do muggles call them?" Fred asked.

"Movies" I answered, only half present. "So, when I was asleep, you somehow extracted memories of my past life and embedded them into a hat?" If magic wasn't real, I'd call bull on this magic Ex Machina nonsense. Some days, I miss being a muggle.

Fred and George grinned wider. "Pretty much," they said.

"How do you know if it will work?" I asked, although what I really want to know is exactly what the hell they did to me when I was asleep.

"We don't," they said together in their best happy-go-lucky voices.

"It's a leap of faith, Jolly Holly", George said as he snatched the pink hat out of my hands.

"We don't have a way to test them," Fred said as George jammed the monstrosity onto my head, causing me to sputter. I'm glad Pucey isn't here to see this. Pink absolutely clashes with red hair. "And we skipped DADA this morning".

"But it was worth it in order to get a finished product. We've even been skipping meals to complete these beauties" George said, as he took his time making sure that my new hat was sitting correctly on top of my head.

"So, we'll be going in blind" Fred said, once George stepped back. Both of them smiled. Not grinning as they had been, but genuine smiles as they took in their handy work.

"But that's okay because we'll be going in blind together". Fred and George said in sync.

I sighed forlornly, studying Fred in his red hat and George in his blue hat. "We look like fans of Sherlock Holmes," I said.

Fred adopts a confused expression as George quirks his head to the side. "What's Sherlock Holmes?" George asked.

I shake my head. Muggle references are useless on them. "Nevermind".

* * *

When we reached Professor McGonagall's classroom, she took one look at our new accessories and said, "Take those atrocious things off at once".

At the prompting of my fellow triplets, I stepped forward. "Sorry Professor. But can I please wear it? Fred and George made it for me. They said it would help protect my head in case I have another seizure and fall". I said in an extremely tired voice. At that moment McGonagall gives me a sympathetic look. We both know the reason why.

"Cushioning charm" Fred piped up in the background.

Ignoring our classmates sniggering at our fashion choices, McGonagall stands up from behind her desk and sweeps to the back of the classroom, so that we may have a more semi-private conversation. "Your concern for your sister is admirable," She said softly, but then a little more sternly. "But I can assure you three that there will be no legilimency in my class, and that Professor Dumbledore has the matter well in hand".

Fred nudges me in the ribs with his elbow. "Please Professor. Can't I wear it? It helps me feel safe". I said in one flat tone, suggesting that I would rather be somewhere else. Fred jabs me in the ribs for a second time. Probably because I wasn't convincing in the role of the terrified victim. But I don't know why he thought we would be able to pull a fast one on McGonagall. To do so would be the equivalent of tricking a goblin out of some gold, bloody impossible.

McGonagall gives me a long look. Her lips keep twitching, signifying that she is more bemused than anything else at this point. "That doesn't explain why, Mr. Weasleys, you two are also wearing hats". She said, giving me a reprieve by turning to my brothers. She and I both know they are the true masterminds behind everything. Except for that time last year when Stimpson's boot laces kept disappearing when she was walking. That one was all me.

"Well Ma'am," George said. "We are triplets".

"We prefer to match". Fred finished.

McGonagall presses her lips together as if holding her breath. For a moment she refuses to look at us as she collected herself. It wouldn't do for one of the strictest teachers at Hogwarts to be caught laughing. Her image would be spoiled. Though, sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if Fred and George had been in Ravenclaw. Not that they embody the traits of Ravenclaw, but Flitwick is just so nice and a tad bit laissez-faire about extracurriculars. I think Fred and George could get away with a lot more if Flitwick was their head of house. He'd probably award them house points for their more creative schemes. I think McGonagall is probably doing the school a favor by being their head of house. Not that she had a choice. "Very well," She said, once composed. "You may keep your hats on. But keep to the back of the classroom. I won't have you distracting your classmates". She ordered before heading back to her desk. Yeah, she gave up on us ages ago.


	9. Elementary

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Elementary

The hats are received just as I would have suspected them to be. Percy refuses to acknowledge our existence when we are wearing them. He's taken to staring at his shoes and walking hurriedly away whenever he sees us. As if he's trying to hide the fact that we are related. Impossible though. Considering our family's trademark hair color. Flitwick awarded Fred and George five house points when they explained to him what they were for. Not their real purpose, the cushioning charm excuse we had given McGonagall. I adamantly refused to wear it in Arithmancy. Fred and George will never need to know. And I am too far away from Quirrell to be in any danger. So, it's fine. It's fine and Pucey will never have to see me in pink. Though, he has seen me wearing the stupid hat. We are in the same DADA class after all, and then he'd seen me at mealtimes too... But you know what, the setting is important. He would have only seen me wearing the hat with Fred and George. Hopefully, he's marked it down as something that I got roped into instead of me being a willing participant.

Since the last class, McGonagall had been ignoring us as we remain seated in the back of her classroom. Quirrell has been taking a similar approach. On Friday, he had refused to make eye contact with us. We didn't even get a comment from him about the hats. He never even looked over at the Gryffindor side of the classroom. Fred, George, and I had no clue what we should make of his behavior. The only class we cannot wear them in is Snape's. He saw them once and threatened to throw us out of the classroom if we didn't remove them. I was surprised he didn't confiscate them. The garish hats seemed to be personally offensive to him. I had no problem removing my pink hat. Pink has always been for Ginny's thing than mine. But Fred and George had tried to give Snape the same sob story they've told everyone who's asked about the hats. Instead of offering us assurances that it wouldn't happen again, Snape had sneered as if wishful and said, "We'll just have to risk it".

But we managed to finish our first week as third-years without any more mishaps. We even managed to spend our free period on Thursday researching what we should do about Scabbers. However, now that it is Saturday, I know today is the perfect chance to get back at my fellow triplets for the sleeping charm. Good intentions aside. Saturday afternoons in Gryffindor tower tend to be quiet affairs. At this time of day, all of the Gryffindors have woken up and the majority of them are somewhere else in the castle or mucking about on the grounds. And if you were on the Gryffindor quidditch team, you were currently get murdered by Wood as he made his players run drills for hours on end. Despite his team currently lacking a seeker. However, I had seen Ron's schedule. I knew the first-years' flying class would start next week. So, that problem would be remedied soon.

Ron was sitting on the common room floor by couches with Harry, a chessboard between them. He was trying to explain the game to the four-eyes. But Harry seemed to be more enthralled with the moving pieces than with the rules. "Hello boys," I said, dropping down on the red velvet couch they were sitting in front of.

Harry looked up and smiled, but seemed too uncomfortable to do anything else as he looks back down on to the board. But Ron openly stares at me. He's been doing that a lot as of late. Though whether it is due to Jessie or the hat Fred and George have been making me wear, I am unsure. A moment passes of the two of us just staring at each other. While Harry tries to come up with a move. "You're not wearing that hat". Ron said after a while.

"No," I said, as Harry instructed one of his pawns to move forward. "I don't need it in the common room. No one is going to attack me here". Ron seemed unsure of my answer, but that didn't stop him from slaughtering Harry's rook with his knight. Throughout the week Fred, George, and I had worked on slipping into causal conversations that my fit had been caused by a legilimency attack. The Hogwarts gossip chain took control from there and soon the attack was common knowledge. I knew some of the older students, who knew more about legilimency, had questions about why I would have such a poor reaction to magic that should be undetectable in most cases. But so far everyone had been considerate enough to keep their distance. I'm not ready for Jessie to become common knowledge. Originally, I intended that only Fred and George would know about my past life.

"Err" Harry spoke up. Looking a bit shy as he drew Ron's and my attention to him. "Did someone really try to read your mind?" He had the courage to ask, chess game forgotten. It's just as well. Ron would have won in two more moves.

"Yeah". I said, leaning forward on the couch to be closer to the two boys. I balance my elbows on my knees and lower my back as if I am about to tell them a secret. But in reality, I just know how to hold the attention of an audience. One learns these things when they have six brothers and one sister to compete with. "But whoever it was didn't do it right. Which is why I had a seizure". Harry hung on to my every word. Mind reading, even though that is not legilimency, was something that muggles always fantasied about. So, I know where he is coming from. Ron, on the other hand, looks a bit bored. Apparently, a collapsing sister is only interesting on the day that it happens. "But I didn't come over here to talk about that". I said, directly changing the topic. "I need your help". And then I turn to Harry. "Yours too, if you want to come along". Harry smiles at me in return, acting as if I had just offered him the last chocolate frog. Truly attention-starved, this boy. If he's acting like that before even asking what I need help with.

Ron, however; has been raised to know better. "With what?" He asked, eyebrows slanted in suspicion.

I grin at my little brother and his friend. "Revenge".

Harry seems taken back at my admittance. I wonder what he thought I was going to say.

But Ron isn't even a little shaken. "On who?" he asked before he thought about it a little. "Percy?"

I shake my head. No, Percy rarely gets on my nerves. I find his notions of propriety more amusing than annoying. Unlike some people. "Fred and George".

Ron looks baffled. It's fair. Fred, George, and I are rarely at odds. We have our little tiffs that get worked out through witty banter and a good night's sleep. The last real fight we had was during Christmas, 1985 when I had replaced the contents of their stockings with coal (another reference that no one got). Nine-year-old Fred and George hadn't been remotely amused. It had led to one of the biggest food fights that the Burrow has ever seen. And I wouldn't say that we are going through is a fight right now. But I can't let them get away with using a sleeping charm on me. What kind of brothers magically put their triplet to sleep? "What did they do?" Ron asked.

I clicked my tongue. "Something that I can't forgive without a little help," I said as smoothly as I could. At Ron's skeptical glance I add on, "Come on! It'll be fun. If there's any trouble I'll take all the blame. And isn't there something you would like to get payback for? What about the time Fred and George turned your teddy bear into a spider?" I mean, technically speaking, I played a part in that too. But Ron doesn't need to know that.

Ron deflates a little. He looks over at his new best friend. "Harry?" He asked for his opinion.

"What would we have to do?" Harry asked me.

"We'll need to collect a lot of pond scum or slime or just gross mushy things in general. Then we'll need to put them inside a lot of water balloons in the owlery." I said, describing my plan very vaguely. If the boys choose not the help me it is better if they don't know all of the details of my plan.

"The owlery?" Ron asked, baffled. I don't blame him. What could pond scum possibly have to do with the owlery? I nod at him to show that he got it right. "And you promise to take all of the blame if we're caught?" Another nod on my part. I want Fred and George to know exactly who is responsible. After the fact of course. Ron shakes his head before looking at Harry. Silently asking his friend if he wants to take part. At Harry's eager nod, Ron said, "fine".

"Cool," I said, popping up to my feet. "I'll meet the two of you by the exit in just a minute". I said as I ran for the girls' dorms.

"Why?" Ron called after me.

"I need to get my hat!" I yelled over my shoulder.

* * *

Two hours later, found the three of us squatting in the owlery with three buckers filled with either pond scum or slime that may have been magically conjured, and a pile of empty unused water balloons. "So, why are we doing this?" Ron asked we all set about to fill the water balloons. The water balloons were surprisingly not that difficult to acquire. I just had to find one (which I did, at the bottom of George's trunk. Hopefully he won't notice it missing) and then cast gemino on it enough times until I had an ample amount of water balloons.

I finished tying off one balloon before answering. "We'll feel all these balloons with enough scum or slime to make sure they'll burst upon impact. Then we'll use the school owls to deliver them. We'll tell the owls to drop them on Fred and George as they are the recipients. The most important thing about this is the timing. The goal is to make sure that the owls we use drop the balloons during the evening post", I explained to the two eleven-year-olds as they diligently worked on their own balloons. If the prank can occur with the evening post, then there will be a big audience to watch Fred and George being pelted with pond scum and slime. Mayhem is always so much more enjoyable when there's a spectating crowd. Of course, the one downside to all of this is that I won't be able to see it happen. But this is a sacrifice you make for a good prank.

"Evening post" Ron muttered to himself as he started a new balloon. "But we'll miss dinner!" He exclaimed once it all clicked. Good to know my little brother has his priorities straight.

"Don't worry" I placated. "Do you think I would let you go hungry? What kind of big sister would I be?" Ron looks like he would very much like to answer my rhetorical question. So, I quickly keep on talking so he can't. "Afterwards I'll take you and Harry down to the kitchen. You can eat a much as you want, and then you'll know how to get to the kitchens". That appeased Ron fast enough.

Harry maintained silence for the majority of the water balloon stuffing. He seemed happy enough, smiling as Ron bantered back and forth with me. But he ultimately seemed unsure of what he should say to me. I wondered when Harry would come out of his shell. From Jessie's memories, I don't recall Harry being shy. But the books did follow Harry's perspective. And in the first book, he kind of stuck to his year mates. Maybe he would be more open once he started quidditch, or befriended Hermione. "So, how are classes?" I asked as we were almost finished with the balloons. After this, we would have to start lining up the school owls. I don't think that will be too hard. For the past half-hour, the owls have been peering down at us from their perches and hooting with intrigue. Hedwig, Harry's owl, and even flown door to sit on his shoulder as he worked.

"We got lost on the first day". Harry pipped up. Clearly, classes were something he felt comfortable talking about. "Made us late to McGonagall's class".

"We've all been lost at some point," I said. In a school with 142 staircases that move, I'd be more surprised if there was a person who never got lost. Damn, Jessie remembers the weirdest things. 142 staircases? Who needs to know that?

Ron looked up at me as he tied off another balloon. "Snape's a git". He said simply.

I laughed a short laugh. "You nailed that one on the head. 75% of the student population would agree with you". I said. "But don't mind him too much. He's like that with everyone unless you are in-"

"Slytherin" both boys finished for me.

"It's not fair" Ron continued as Harry reached from the last empty water balloon. "He takes away points for the stupidest things. Like squeezing", Ron said with disgust leaking from his voice. "But then awards Slytherin if they manage to spell their names right". I nod along, letting Ron complain as I finished my last balloon. All Gryffindors felt the same way our first year. Best to just let it out. "Slytherins" Ron sneered, face twisting into an ugly scowl. "They're the worst type I tell you. Strutting about like their gifts to the world."

"Ron," I said, stopping what was looking up to be a very impressive rant. "Have you meet every Slytherin currently living?"

"No," Ron said as shoots me an incredulous look. While Harry merely looks curious.

"Then how do you know they are all bad?"

Ron doesn't answer immediately. I can see him thinking through the question. But this is Ron. He's nearly as stubborn as Mum. He'll find a way to refute me. "But they are always going on about blood purity and old money. And they don't like muggleborns!" Ron said, doing a good job at listing off everything he picked up on from listening to Mum, Dad, Bill, and Charlie.

Harry was studying Ron very closely. I had forgotten how much Harry relied on Ron to make sense of the wizarding world. Maybe I shouldn't be having this conversation with my younger brother. Especially in front of Harry. But I don't want him growing up to be narrowed minded. I'm sure if there is any consequence to this conversation it won't be a big one. "Who's they?" I asked Ron.

"Purebloods" is his automatic response.

"We're purebloods, and I thought we liked muggleborns".

Ron flushed scarlet. "But we're in Gryffindor so we're good purebloods!" But then he reframed himself. "You're only saying all of this because the bloke you like is in Slytherin."

Taken back, I give Ron a searching look. How the hell did he know that? I mean, how did he know I was constantly being teased about liking a boy in Slytherin house? Who I do not actually like... in the way that they are implying. Cough. "All I'm saying is that you should judge people as individuals and not as groups. Can you do that?" I asked Ron, who slowly nods at me. But I am surprised when Harry agrees as well.

"But Malfoy is still a total prat," Ron said, needing to have the final word.

I'll allow it. "Yeah, Malfoy is a prat". But only because it's true.

* * *

At around eight o'clock, I found myself making my way back to Gryffindor tower alone. The owls had been more than willing in dropping off the balloons for me one by one. Hedwig even ended up taking a few herself. She seemed to enjoy it if the gleam in her golden eyes were anything to go off on. Harry and Ron proved to be great partners in crime. I may have to consider recruiting them in the future. That is if Fred and George don't figure who helped me and then scare them off. As promised, I led the two first-years to the kitchens where we enjoyed a nice meal of Cornish gain hen and roasted veggies. All the while listening to the house-elves comment on the swampy, slimy mess that had occurred in the great hall. Which was our first sign that our prank had been successful. I left the boys in the kitchen once I was full. They decided they would gorge themselves on dessert before heading back to the tower. The house-elves were absolutely thrilled at the prospect of baking for two very complementary students. Based on how much Ron eats, I won't be surprised if the house elves tried to adopt him before the year was out.

The second sign that the prank was a success came in the form of Fred and George themselves. There were standing in an alcove a little way away from the Fat Lady's portrait, waiting. I wouldn't have seen them at all if they hadn't made themselves known. "Jolly Holly" Fred singsonged as he and George cut off my path to the common room.

At the first sight of them, I started sputtering with a laugh caught in my throat. Their robes were covered with head to toe splotches of pond gunk and slime. Green goop clung to their skin and hair, and they seemed to be absolutely soaked. Soon, I worked myself into a full-blown laugh. There were even little drops of sludge dripping off of the hems of their robes and onto the stone floor of Hogwarts. I was laughing so hard that It was getting difficult to breathe. A minute in and I was hunched over and wheezing between rounds of laughter. Merlin, why hadn't I done this sooner? Miraculously, however; the red and blue hats on top of their heads were spit-spot clean. I wonder how that happened. Though they did smell very strongly of residue that one would find inside a used cauldron. "We missed you at dinner," George said evenly as he and Fred walked closer.

I take a step back for good measure. "I decided to eat in the kitchens," I said, laughing through my nose in an attempt to calm myself down. I had one hand wrapped around my stomach. Its muscles were starting to hurt from all of the laughing.

"Oh," Said Fred with a raised eyebrow. "that's too bad. You missed quite the show at dinner".

"Yeah. Fred and I were really popular" George said as the two of them take another step forward. "We got a lot of owls in the evening post".

"A whole flock really". At this point, my fellow triplets had backed me up into a wall and were effectively blocking all exits.

"But it was the strangest thing" George goes on to say. "They were all carrying water balloons".

"Which they dropped on us", Fred clarified.

"And none of the balloons were filled with water".

"Remarkably", Fred said, fluxing his voice to suggest just how unremarkable it really was. "All of the owls that had a water balloon, except one, was a school owl".

"Which makes us think that the balloons weren't from individual people".

"But one person," Fred and George said in sync.

"Now who do we know, George, who wasn't at dinner?" Fred asked. Face absolutely blank.

"The very same person, Fred, who usually tells us where she's going to be" George finished.

I look at Fred who stares straight back at me. Then I look at George who is doing the same. A terse moment passes of the three of us just staring at each other. A couple of sixth year Gryffindors walk past us, but they don't comment. After sharing a house with us for about two years, they've grown accustomed to us. They had to, for the sake of their own survival. Once the sixth-year Gryffindors are in the clear, I break first. A new wave of laughter hits me. It started by bubbling in my chest, causing my shoulders to shake. Soon, I was laughing loud enough that it could be heard echoing off of the ceilings. I had to lean against the wall behind me for support. Fred and George join in not long after. Laughing uproariously as they thumped each other on the backs and slapped their knees. The stony expressions on their faces had completely vanished.

"That was a good one, Holls", George said as he wiped an imaginary tear from under his left eye. We had calmed down to the point of panting. All of us, trying to catch our breath.

"We've never been prouder" Fred tacked on.

"So, are we forgiven?" George asked once we were all capable of standing up straight.

I nod. "As long as you promise not to use a sleeping charm on me again". I said, holding up one finger as if giving them a warning. Both boys nod solemnly. "Then you're forgiven, as soon as you take a shower". I said. Because they really do stink. Pond scum is far from perfume after all.

Fred and George share a look between them before they hold out their holds. "Hug it out first?" Fred asked.

I fervently shake my head. "Don't you dare!" I said as both my brothers stepped forward. With there being a wall behind me, I had no way of escaping. And soon I was pulled into a very sticky, slimy, smelly Weasley sandwich. "Ugh" I complained as my brothers' grip tightened and they rubbed their dirty green cheeks against my own. "Now we all need showers".

As the three of us completed the walk to the Fat Lady's portrait, smelly like a swamp, George asked. "So how did you do it Holls?"

With one finger, I pushed up my pink Sherlock Holmes hat by the front flap. "Elementary, my dear George". I said, dropping another reference that they will not pick up on.


	10. Broomsticks and Animagi

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Broomsticks and Animagi

As luck would have it, the third-year transfiguration curriculum covers animagi theory. I nearly jumped out of my skin with excitement when McGonagall informed us of the first unit of the year. "Now that we have completed revising last year's content and the summer homework, I can introduce a new topic". She walked the length of the room to where the blackboard sits near a window. "This term we will be spending a lot of time discussing the theory behind human transfiguration. Now, the application of human transfiguration is highly advanced magic, so you will not be taught any spells unless you make it to NEWT level transfiguration." A series of groans echoed throughout the class. There's nothing worse than going to magic school and only learning theory. However, McGonagall quickly silences the class with one stern look. "It is important", she goes on to say. "To know the theory behind human transfiguration as you will be required to write an essay and give a small presentation near the end of term about the differences between human transfiguration and animagi. Which we will also be studying this term". My fellow triplets and I all shared looks. Of all the dumb luck. Not that I am complaining. But seriously, it's like we were meant to expose Pettigrew. Though, in a way, it does make sense. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in their third year when Pettigrew was originally exposed. Fred, George, and I are currently in our third year. So, I guess the curriculum would be generally the same. "As this is an assignment set up to last all term, you may work in groups between two to four people. But be aware, that groups of four will be required to turn in a four-foot essay, while the two people groups will only have to write a two-foot essay, and the three people groups, a three-foot essay." Everyone started to look around the room, trying to choose their groups then and there. Lee was currently trying to make eye contact with Fred. Angelina and Alicia turned around at their desk, sending me an inquiring look. I slowly shook my head, gesturing subtly to George sitting on my right. It seems we are being presented with a golden opportunity. "We will go over possible topics today, and at the end of the class you'll form your groups and pick a topic". It's just getting better and better. "Now, to start. Can anyone tell me what human transfiguration is?"

However, no one got the chance to answer. A girl on the Ravenclaw side of the classroom stood up and pointed hurriedly to the window near the blackboard". "Professor!" She said voice tinged with alarm.

McGonagall turned around in time to see a little black blob on a broomstick speeding straight for the very same window we were all looking out of. The closer and closer the figure became, the clearer it was to see that it was a boy on the broomstick. The boy had his hand stretched out in front of him as he lay, hunched over the top of the broom as if he was trying to catch something. McGonagall stepped back and withdrew her wand from somewhere in her robes' pocket. She raised it but didn't seem to know what to do. Does she save the boy before he flies through a window? Or does she save her class from being pelted with shards of glass? To be fair, it is a rather small window. It would be better to save the boy. I'm not entirely sure he could fit through the window. But it turns out, McGonagall doesn't have to do anything. At the last possible second, the boy catches whatever he was reaching for, and turns his broom. Only then do I recognize who the boy is. "Wasn't that Potter?" Angelina asked from the row in front of me.

Angelina's question seemed to snap McGonagall out of whatever daze she was in. She turns to face us. "Read the chapter on human transfiguration in your books!" She ordered as she started to hurry down the aisle of desks. "And everyone better be in their seats when I get back!" And then she went out the door.

A brief moment of silence filled the transfiguration classroom as everyone processed what just happened. I mean, it's not every day a teacher just runs out in the middle of class. But then books are instantly discarded as people turned in their seats to talk to their neighbors. I lean back ever so slightly so I could see Fred and George at the same time. "Was that-" Fred started to say.

"Ron's flying class?" George finished the question.

"Yup," I said. Looks like Gryffindor house was about to get their new seeker.

"So," Lee broke in after a bit of time had passed. McGonagall still hadn't returned. She had probably just now made it down to the pitch. If memory serves, she'll go to Quirrell's class to make an introduction between Harry and Wood before coming back here. He leans around Fred so that he can also see myself and George. "Do you guys want to work together on this transfiguration project?" He asked.

Fred and George give me considering looks. They would love to work with Lee. I would prefer not to. And my fellow triplets and I do have a hidden agenda for this assignment. Even if we haven't discussed it yet. But, I think as I eye Fred and George. Their considering look was slowly turning into puppy eyes. It wouldn't hurt to have a fourth member who was completely unaware of our hidden plans. "Alright", I said, leaning forward to see around Fred. "We can be a group of four. But I get to pick the topic".

Lee beams. "I knew you'd warm up to me eventually". My face freezes as I instantly regret my decision. "I'm picturing it now. Late nights in the library. You'll fall asleep with your head on my shoulder. So, you can choose anything you want, my lady". He said, trying to sound suave as he did that stupid thing with his eyebrows again. I bite my tongue. One good stinging hex would teach him that he is barking up the wrong tree.

Fred places an arm around my waist, and George swings his arm over my shoulders. Seems they didn't like that comment either. "Our lady" George corrected.

"Who's not going to date, anyone". Fred said.

"Ever" George concluded.

I shake off my brothers' arms. "I will date anyone I want whenever I want. But!" I exclaimed, holding up one finger to make it clear that I was about to make a point. "I will not date my brothers' best friend. Especially my brother's friend who was flirting with a Hufflepuff fourth-year yesterday". I finished my declaration with a firm nod of my head.

The boys scoffed in response. All three of them. These gits. By the time McGonagall gets back, very few people are still in their original seats. But she seems to be in a good mood to be too cross. Though points are taken away from both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw house. There's not enough time left in class to formally form groups and pick a topic. So, class ended with the promise that that is where we will pick up first thing next class.

* * *

Lunchtime brought us a new challenge; a new fork in the road. And it came in the form of Draco Malfoy. Sitting at Gryffindor table, Fred, George, and I stuffed ourselves with fish and chips. We were having plenty of luck getting whole platters full of food to ourselves at mealtimes. I think it has something to do with our choice of headwear. I still hate that there's a pink deerstalker sitting on top of my head. But the rules were clear. We needed to be wearing our hats whenever we were outside of the common room. Just in case we ran into Quirrell and his guest. But recently I observed that there have been fewer people who want to associate with us at mealtimes. Meaning, that there's just more food for us.

I had looked up to ask Fred to pass the tomato sauce when I saw the blonde Slytherin with his two goons standing over our little brother and Harry. Seems I had forgotten someone once again. "Fred, Fred, Fred," I said very quickly as I grabbed the sleeve of Fred's robe and tugged. I trusted that this would also draw George's attention.

After swallowing a rather large bite of battered fried fish, Fred turns to me. "Merlin, woman. No one needs tomato sauce that badly".

"No, look," I said, tugging on his arms again and pointing further down the opposite side of the table where Ron is.

Fred nudges Georges. "Why is Malfoy talking to Ron and Harry?" He asked.

"I think I forgot something again," I said, as the three of us watch a conversation between the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivals take place. "Something that we're going to have to decide very fast".

"What?" They asked together.

The only problem is, I have to remember exactly what happens. "Harry just got admitted to the Gryffindor quidditch team," I said, starting to recall. "Even though first-years aren't even allowed broomsticks. Malfoy isn't happy about that. So, he says something to Harry. Harry and Ron will make them sneak out of the tower after curfew. Tonight, I think. But it might happen tomorrow." Fred and George nod to show that they are following. "But it's a trick. Somehow it's a trick. But I can't remember how. Ron and Harry fall for it. Hermione will try to stop them but will end up going with them. Somehow they wind up on the third-floor corridor, and they'll meet the three-headed dog". I finished.

Fred nods, fish and chips abandoned. "So, we can go up to the firsties now and stop this. Or we can stop Ron and Harry from leaving the tower".

George leans around Fred. "Holly, does anything important happen by Harry and Ron breaking curfew?"

"Umm," I said as I tried to think. Judging by the vibrant state of the tips of Ron's ears, their conversation with Draco will be over soon. This is too much pressure! "Well for one, they discover the three-headed dog. Which will eventually lead them to talk to Hagrid about it, and then they'll learn how to put the dog to sleep. And it's another interaction with Hermione. But I don't know if it is important in the three of them becoming friends".

I look away from the first-years to get my brothers' opinions. Both of them are chewing on their bottom lips as the mull over the information. Much too slowly for my liking. "Do they get hurt?" Fred asked.

I shake my head. "Just rattles them a bit. They won't even get caught out after hours".

Fred and George look at each other and have a silent conversation that I can't follow. Before they both shrug and turn back to me. "Do nothing". They said, going back to their food.

"Do nothing?" I asked.

"Yeah," George said around a mouthful of chips. "You said no one gets hurt".

"And we need Harry to know about the dog," Fred said, as he placed the tomato sauce bottle in front of me.

"But what if something different happens? What if the dog manages to attack them? What if Ron gets mauled?" I said. I can't let Ron get hurt. Especially not by a three-headed dog that could potentially scar him for life. Literally and figurately speaking. The boy is already afraid of spiders, we don't need to throw dogs into the mix as well.

Fred and George groaned, and both of them threw their heads back to look up towards the ceiling with their red and blue hats staying perfectly in place. As if they were asking for patience. "Blimey, Holls" Fred complained.

"You're starting to sound like Mum". George said.

I'm taken back. There's no way that I sound like a middle-aged witch. "I do not!" I said, right as I notice Malfoy and his goons walking away.

My indignation is ignored. "We can't fight Ron's battles for him", said Fred before he took a bite of fish.

I looked towards George, knowing that the next line will come from him. But I have to wait for him to finish chewing and swallowing before he said, "Or he'll never toughen up".

"We're doing him a kindness," both boys said.

I stare at my fellow triplets in disbelief as George adds more chips to his plate, and Fred takes a swig of pumpkin juice. "It's a kindness to knowingly allow our little brother to stumble across an aggressive three-headed dog?" My eyes widen marginally at the thought.

However, Fred and George are completely unaffected by the urgency I am trying to instill in them. "Yes," they said promptly.

At my less than pleased and slightly terrified look, Fred rolls his eyes. "It'll be fine, Holls. You can't keep molly-coddling Ron forever".

I don't molly-coddle Ron. I want to argue. But George breaks in before I can. "Stay in our dorm tonight".

"We'll watch them on the map," Fred whispered that part.

"Make sure they make it back to Gryffindor Tower" George finished. Unhappy, but placated I agree with a hesitant nod. They better be right. I thought as I reached for the tomato sauce Fred had placed in front of me moments before. Ron better be alright. "Hey," George said, introducing a new topic after a couple of minutes. "Do you think the phrase 'molly-coddling' was named after Mum?"

* * *

Donned in my comfiest pajamas, I climbed the stairs to the boys' dorms at ten o'clock. My pajamas aren't anything special. Actually, they aren't even pajamas. The top is an old weird sisters t-shirt I nicked from Bill when it got too small for him, and the bottoms are a pair of loosely fitted sweats that actually belong to Percy. Who, as far as I am aware, doesn't know that I have them. Though, I left the pink hat in my dorm. The common room is mostly empty when I pass through it. The few stragglers are some fifth and seventh years, panicked about their OWL and NEWT years. None of them take notice as I slip up the set of stairs girls aren't supposed to go up.

With a lot less precaution that I probably should have, I enter Fred and George's dorm. From the looks of it, Lee had already gone to sleep. And the two non-important roommates in Fred and George's dorm were slowly getting ready for bed. "Merlin!" One of the no-name boys exclaimed as he clutched his shirt to his bare chest. I don't linger. I'm not here for that, and it's not like there's anything to see anyway. I head straight for Fred's bed, who has already made room for me. "What are you doing here?" the no-name boy asked, sounding a bit flustered.

"Nightmares" I threw over my shoulder as sat down on the bed with Fred, our backs against the headrest. George does the same at the foot of Fred's bed. He has the map, currently resembling a blank bit of parchment in his left hand.

No-name boy sputters. He is, of course, used to finding me in his dorm after I've had one of my murder dreams. But that usually happens later in the night or extremely early in the morning. Not right when everyone is heading off to bed. "You couldn't have had nightmares. None of us have gone to sleep yet". Oh, how very logical of him.

George reaches over to grip the curtains around Fred's four-poster bed. While Fred said a bit forcibly. "She has nightmares!". And then George pulls the curtains shut, blocking out the affronted face of one of their no-name roommates. One silencing charm on the curtains, and one 'I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good' later and we're in business.

"They'll all still in their dorms", George said as he laid the map on the middle of the bed. He pointed to the first-year girls' dorm, where we could see Hermione's name. And then over to the boys' dorms where we found Harry's and Ron's names.

"Wait," Fred said. He leans forward to point out a fourth name that is also of interest to us. Almost overlapping Ron's dot is another that reads 'Peter Pettigrew'. "How have we not noticed that before?"

I shrug. When we got the map back in our first-year it was one of the first things I looked at. The little dot that represented the fact the Pettigrew was living in Percy's pockets. But that was before I decided to let Fred and George in on everything. So, with great difficulty, I had decided to keep my mouth shut. George studies the little dots very closely. "Merlin!" He said after a moment. "I think Ron has Scabbers in his bed. Our little brother is sleeping with a murderer in his bed!"

Fred bumps me with his shoulder. "Suddenly, facing a three-headed dog does seem all that bad, does it?" He is dutifully ignored.

"They probably won't leave until around midnight," I said. Everyone should have retired to their beds at that point. So, that's when it would be easiest for the three first-years to sneak out. But then, what should we do for the next two hours?

"It was a dark and stormy night," I said in a low voice.

Fred rolls his eyes. "Holls, you don't have to start every story with, 'it was a dark and stormy night'".

"Do try to be a bit more original", George added his input.

I frown at them. Way to break the atmosphere guys. "I'm telling the story, and I'll tell it any way I want". When I do not get any more complaints I continued. "Becky was home alone with her dog. It was late, so she decided to go to bed and her dog went with her".

"Riveting stuff," George said.

"Shut up," I said. "But Becky would have a hard time falling asleep that night".

"Oh?" Fred asked. "Because it was a dark and stormy night?" As George snickers, I cover my nose with my hands and sigh. If they were just going to make fun of it, why did they suggest telling scary stories in the first place? After George is done laughing, Fred waves a hand at me. "Please go on. I'm dying to know what happens next".

"Because throughout the night she kept hearing strange sounds. Footsteps that shouldn't be there, and the sound of dripping coming from her en suite bathroom. But she was reassured whenever she lowered her hand to the underside of her bed. Because that is where her dog liked to sleep. And he would lick her hand. Surely, Becky was safe as long as she had her dog looking out for her".

"I bet she wasn't safe," George said. "What was it?" He asked. "A poltergeist? Burglar? Maybe an ex-boyfriend?"

I make the choice to just keep going. "Dozing on and off, listening to these frightening sounds, Becky makes it through the night".

"Jolly Holly, I don't think you understand who a scary story is supposed to work," Fred said. "The main character never makes it through the night. If they survive then it isn't that scary. Shouldn't someone who was killed in their past life know that?"

I jab Fred in the ribs with my elbow. "But, she can't find her dog anywhere. She calls his name, but he never comes. Concerned she heads for her bathroom. Maybe Becky would take a shower before setting off to find her missing dog. But when she turned on the bathroom light, she saw a gruesome sight".

"No!" George mocked exclaimed.

"Yes!" I replied. "Her dog was dead in her bathtub, having been stabbed multiple times. And on the tile written in her dog's blood was this sentence, 'Humans can lick too'. So, the question remains, what, or rather, who was licking Becky's hand all night?"

My brothers stare at me, their eyes having grown comically big at the part about licking humans. But it doesn't take them long to recover and soon they are laughing aloud. If it wasn't for the silencing charm on Fred's curtains, their roommates would be most displeased. "That was disgusting," George said.

"Absolutely horrid" Fred added.

"Jolly Holly strikes again" George exclaimed.

"You should write it down and sell it to the daily prophet". Fred said none too seriously. "I bet they'd love it".

I roll my eyes. Leave it to these two to not be scared at all. "I can't sell it. I didn't make it up. It's something called an urban legend. Something I remember from Jessie's life".

"Merlin," George said as he and Fred quieted down. "Muggles sure are morbid".

We don't get the chance to tell another story, because movement on the Marauder's map catches our attention. "There goes Harry and Ron," I said as we watched their dots enter the common room.

"And Granger is already waiting for them". Fred noted. With our heads bent together, the three of us track the first adventure of the golden trio. For some reason, the three of them head to the trophy room. But once there they quickly have to run away from a fast-approaching Mrs. Norris and Filch. Focused on not getting caught rather than on where they are going, the three- first years end up at the third-floor corridor. Where the three of us, see a new name on the map.

"Fluffy?" George reads. "Is the three-headed dog called Fluffy?"

I nod my head, too focused on the three dots of the first-years running for their lives to actually comment.

George shakes his head. "Hagrid has issues".

We continue to stare at the map until Ron, Harry, and Hermione are back in the common room once more, safe.

"See Holls", said Fred.

At the same time as George tapped the map with his wand and said, "mischief managed".

"Nothing happened. Just as you said. So, let's go to sleep and not worry about ickle Ronniekins anymore".


	11. The Third Wheel Tactic

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Third Wheel Tactic

The following weeks were relatively quiet. Fred, George, Lee, and I signed up as a group for McGonagall's term-long assignment. For our topic, I picked how to tell when an animal is actually an Animagus. Harry received a Nimbus 2000 from McGonagall. Which caused quite a stir with the first years. Also correlated to quidditch, Wood decided that since they now had a full team Quidditch practice needed to happen no less than three times a week. Unfortunately for me, this meant I got roped into spending a lot of time alone with Lee during these practices. Always under the pretense that we would be working on our transfiguration project. Clearly, I am not as smart as I think I am, considering that I keep falling for it. Though, I have come up with a strategy to stop Lee's game and to keep us on task. The first time I used it, it was a kind of spur of the moment thing. And it started with…

"Okay," I said on the opposite end of the table from Lee. "This book says that animagi can be told apart from regular animals by characteristics that they carry in their lives as people. I wonder if we can find any examples". I said, looking up only to give myself a start. At some point when I had been reading, Lee had left his side of the table in favor of taking the seat on my left. "Merlin" I complained a little too loudly than is probably wise when in the library. "We agreed," I said, turning my voice into a whisper. I ran my hands over the pages of the book I was reading. "That we'd stick to our own sides of the table".

Lee smiles at me. His eyes glint in a way that tells me he is in a humorous mood. "I can't help it. You attract me". Oh, bother.

I clicked my tongue. The problem with Lee wasn't his flirtatious nature. In fact, I truly believe that Lee doesn't even like me. Not in that way, at the least. If he did like me, then Fred and George wouldn't be so cool with me sleeping in their dorm with Lee only a bed away. Or with Lee's game. And it is just a game to him. I know this based on how many girls he's flirted with. Lee's problem is that he doesn't understand boundaries. "Funny," I said as evenly as I could. "Because you repel me".

Lee leans forward, causing me to lean backward. "That's why opposites attract".

Merlin, spare me. I thought as I cringed. Thanks to Jessie's rudimentary knowledge of science, I'm positive that Lee's comment is an inaccurate one. But that's not why I'm cringing. No, that's all due to how incorrigible Lee is. I can't wait for the day when he grows out of this behavior. Assuming that he will. Carrying a stack of books almost taller than herself, I see what could potentially save me from my Lee problem. "Granger!" I called out as the bushy-haired first-year walked by. I got up out of my chair and approached the girl who seemed to be very surprised that someone had called out her name. I grabbed the top stack of her books so that she'll actually be able to see me. Big brown eyes blinked up at me. "Granger, yeah?" I asked. "That's your name?" It wouldn't do for her to know that I know who she is without having a reason for knowing her.

"Yes," Hermione said slowly, blushing at the sudden attention. "My name's Hermione".

"Hi," I said, terribly aware that Lee was watching everything I was doing. "I'm Holly Weasley".

"I know," Hermione said quickly without any shame. "You're Ron's older sister. The one who had a fit in class".

"Yeah, right," I said, talking fast to avoid Hermione asking any questions about that ordeal. I can't wait for the day when the school will forget about it. Of course, wearing the stupid pink hat everywhere isn't helping. "Hey. So, I'm in Gryffindor. Lee over there", I said, pointing Lee out to Hermione. "Is in Gryffindor and so are you. So, how about you come over and study with us?" I offered, already carrying some of her books to Lee's and my table.

"Umm," Hermione said. Unsure if she actually wanted to sit with two random third-years she had never spoken to before.

But I refuse to take no for an answer. "You can take my seat," I said, placing the books I had taken from her at my area. "And we can move my stuff right here". I said, sliding my book and bag so that it was across from where Lee was sitting.

Highly confused at this point, Hermione sets the books she's carrying down and slowly takes the offered seat. With that accomplished, I slide into my new seat. Only then do I look at Lee. His lips are pressed together. But his eyes show how much he is trying to not laugh. "So, transfiguration, yeah?" He asked. I nod, turning back to my book. Lee may not understand boundaries, but he does have standards. One of them being, don't flirt with an unwilling girl with an eleven-year-old present. And I had just forced it into play.

* * *

After that, whenever Lee and I were alone in the library while Fred and George were at quidditch practice I'd invoke a similar strategy. So, when Lee dropped a pick-up line out of the blue when we were discussing that witches and wizards don't get to choose their animagus forms I had a plan. I, very calmly I might add, stood up from our table. But I didn't walk very calmly. With hurried steps, I combed through the library looking for a familiar face. I felt lucky when I saw Percy, who seemed to be on a very comfortable study date with Ms. Clearwater. Well, not for much longer. "Percy!" I said, leaning over the table and sticking my head between the love birds.

Percy jumped. "Holly?" He asked, confused as he adjusted his glasses. "What are you doing? We're in a library!" He said, sounding far too offended about my lack of library etiquette for someone who isn't a librarian. As if just remembering who he was with, Percy glances around me to see his date. "And that was very rude!" He scolded me, gesturing with his quill in Clearwater's direction.

I look over my shoulder at the blonde Ravenclaw prefect. "Hello. Clearwater was it? I'm Holly. Percy's sister. Can't say how pleased I am to meet you. You're a saint. Really, being able to put with Percy. He's very high maintenance. I tell you". I don't give Clearwater the chance to respond by looking back at my older brother. Who looks entirely unimpressed by my little monologue. If his disapproving frown is anything to go off on. I should probably just come out and say why I am disturbing him. "I need your help".

Percy gives me a look of disbelief. His eyes shift back and forth between me and Clearwater in a rapid fashion. As if asking, 'Now?!' Giggling erupts behind me. Percy and I both move to be able to look at the Ravenclaw. Seeming to be unable to control the sprouts of giggles popping out of her mouth. She would appear to collect herself, but one look at us redheads would set her off again. She started to gather her stuff as if it occurred to her that she wouldn't be able to stop any time soon. "Seems like this is a family issue," she said, standing up with one arm full of books while the other slung her school bag over her shoulder. "Excuse me".

"Wait, Penelope", Percy said, putting up a hand to try to stop her from leaving. But the Ravenclaw is already making for the exit. We watch her go. The next time we look at each other Percy is glaring. "Holly," He growled very lowly.

"I'm sorry," I said, quickly. Sidestepping what would have probably a very long lecture. I feel for him. I really do. I imagine I would be equally annoyed if my younger sibling abruptly ended my date. But it's not like he'll marry Clearwater anyway. "But I really do need help".

Percy furrows his brow and clutches the quill in his hand just a little too tightly. "With what?" He asked.

"Lee's flirting with me and I need it to stop", I said, honestly. For my sanity, I need it to stop.

Percy drops his quill and removes his glasses in favor of running his hands over his face. "It's Lee, Holly!" Percy said. "Fred and George's friend. He's not going to do anything. If you don't like it just leave!"

I stick my lower lip out and force it to quiver. I make sure Percy gets a good look before I turn my back to him. "I just wanted to take your advice," I said softly, but I make sure that I said it loud enough for him to hear. I knew throwing his words back at him would soften his mood. "Keeping my focus on school and not on boys".

"Holly?" Percy asked, his voice sounding unsure.

I made my shoulders tremor as if I was sobbing. "But we're working on a school project together. So, I can't ... I can't just leave". I said, throwing out a couple of pants in between my words to imitate wetness and shortness of breath.

"Holly, are you… are you crying?" Percy said as I heard the sounds of his chair scrapping. A sign that he has stood up. His hand lands on my shoulder and he works to turn me around.

I have to work quickly. I spin around and before he can see that my eyes are actually dry. Then I throw myself at his chest. Hiding my face in his robes in the process. Hesitantly, with jerky movements, Percy wraps his arms across my spine. "Help me, please", I said. "You don't have to do much. Just sit between us. You can even do your own studying". Should I feel bad about manipulating my brother like this and pulling him away from his date? I feel like the ethical answer should be yes... I wonder what it says about me that I currently feel no guilt.

Percy puts on his big brother cap and follows me back to the table I was sharing with Lee. For the rest of our time in the library, Percy sat between Lee and me. And it was filled with more than just animagi research. Percy would look up from his muggle studies homework and say at random intervals, "Hands where I can see them" or "That doesn't sound like Transfiguration, Jordan". During all of this Lee looked very uncomfortable, while all I could do was try not to laugh. Who knew beating Lee at his own game would be so much fun.

* * *

The last time I used this third wheel tactic I got the greatest consequence. Before Lee was even able to get me to sit down at a table with him, I ran away. I told him I was going to look for more books on animagi and would join him in a moment. But once Lee could no longer see me, I didn't go to the shelves of the transfiguration section for animagi books, where they would have been found. I searched the aisles of books for anyone. Any familiar face, or unsuspecting first-year that I could force into being a barrier between me and Lee. At this moment I was actually a little sad that Luna Lovegood wasn't a student yet. She would have made a lovely distraction to keep Lee from his less than genuine flirting. With all of her talk about nargles, and radishes and what not. My search for an ally leads me far from the transfiguration section and into the arithmancy section. There he stood, today's hero, with his head bent as he poured over what looked to be a rather thick almanac. The angle of his bent neck and his clean hair cut promoted his aristocratic cheekbones. For a minute I stood still at the start of the aisle, having momentarily forgotten what I was doing. But the memory came back quickly enough. "Pucey" I whispered as I walked towards him down the aisle.

Pucey looked up from the almanac at the sound of his name. And when he saw me, he snapped it closed. "Weasley", He greeted once I was standing in front of him, only inches away.

"I… need a favor," I said slowly, not quite sure how I should be presenting my case. I've never asked for anything from him before except to pass the frog guts in potions class. In fact, how do you ask anyone to be your third-wheel? With Hermione I just kind of forced her to sit down and didn't tell her why I wanted her to be there. I'm not sure if the eleven-year-old even figured out why she ended up sitting between two third-years. With Percy, I faked emotional distress to evoke his obligation as my big brother. And I loathe the day when he finds out that I was faking. He'd probably use his prefect powers to give me a week's worth of detention just for interrupting him and Clearwater. But I can't force or trick Pucey into being my shield for this study session. I don't know him well enough. So, the only thing I can do is just ask him. It's just, 'can you please sit between me and my transfiguration partner so my brothers' best friend doesn't pretend to flirt with me for his own amusement' is such a weird question. What if Pucey says no? What will he think of me after I ask such a question?

Pucey tucks the almanac he was looking at under his arm. He pivots on his heel ever so slightly. Turning just enough so that our shoulders match up, even if his shoulders were an inch or two higher up than mine. "And what would that be?" Pucey asked with a raised eyebrow. His face was poised with just a hint of amusement. If the upturn of the left corner of his mouth was a strong enough tell.

"Are you going to be in the library for a long time?" I asked, trying to gauge if he was more likely to say yes or no to me.

"I could be persuaded to stay longer" Pucey answered as he stared down at me. Merlin, why did it get all hot in here all of the sudden? It is nearing the end of September; you'd think things were would be getting a bit chiller.

Great, that's great. I thought as I tried to think about how to phrase my next question. Maybe if I explain the situation. "So, Fred and George are at quidditch practice. Which means that Jordan and I have been alone together to work on our transfiguration project. But since Fred and George haven't been here, he's been taking… liberties". Is liberties the right word? It felt descriptive when I thought of it. So, I said it. And sudden Pucey is an inch closer to me than before. Should I back up? I should back up. I wouldn't want someone to walk by and think that I liked Pucey or something. But despite thinking that, I don't backup. "But I found a way to get Jordan to stop" I continued to explain, ignoring the semi-shadowed look that Pucey was now sending in my direction and the tingles that were shooting up my spine. Merlin, it should be illegal for a teenager to be so good at giving that look. "If I get a third person to seat with Lee and me, he behaves". I said.

"Jordan is flirting with you without your consent?" Pucey asked.

Well, when he says it like that, he makes it sound like Lee is doing something awful. "Yes," I answer carefully. "But he's not serious about anything he says. It's harmless. Mostly. Jordan just likes to flirt with girls. He flirts with many girls and gets a couple of laughs out of it. As far as I know, we all know that he's joking. But this game of his does make it difficult to work on our transfiguration project". I said, rambling a little. But ultimately, I tried to turn the focus of my favor to academics. Academics are safe. Academics are impartial.

However, Pucey latches on to a different thought than the one I wanted him to. "So, he's toying with you?" His voice had taken on a coarse undertone. Very different from his usual smooth sounding syntax. Maybe I should have asked someone else.

My mouth starts to form to answer yes. But then I think better on in. Instead, I clap my hands together and hold them in front of my nose with my elbows sticking out. "Please study with Jordan and me". I closed my eyes, awaiting Pucey's decision.

Though Pucey doesn't answer right away. Cracking one eye open I nearly jump out of my skin when I find that he is even closer than before. "And what do I get for this favor?" Pucey asked.

I chuckled nervously. "The joy of helping a friend".

Pucey smiles at me as if I was missing something. He starts to laugh lightly along with me. "You know better than that, Weasley," He said. "I'm not a Hufflepuff. My price for favors is a little steeper".

I stop chuckling in favor of raising one eyebrow. "Meaning you have a price".

Pucey's light laughter dissolves into a smirk. "Good, you have been paying attention".

What does that mean? I decide not to dig deeper into that comment. I do have an agenda after all. "So, what do you want?" I asked.

"The first Hogsmeade weekend is coming up in October," Pucey said very casually.

I rock a little on my heels. "Yes, it is".

"Stimpson has asked me to go with her".

I smacked my lips together as my face twisted into a scowl. Despite my desire to stay neutral. But it is Stimpson. No one will blame me for my disapproval. "Has she?" I responded dryly.

Pucey nods, his smirk stretching further across his face. Does he just want to brag about Stimpson? "I told her I couldn't go with her because I already have plans". Oh? "Except I don't currently have plans for Hogsmeade". Well now, that's something.

I can feel my face heating up, and I hope to wizard God that my flushed skin isn't blending in with my hair. "So, you'll study with Jordan and me if…" I trail off, not wanting to say the wrong thing in case I assumed the wrong thing.

"If you'll go with me to Hogsmeade". Pucey finished for me.

"My brothers won't like it".

"I'm aware" Pucey retorted.

"People will see us". I reasoned. "A Gryffindor and a Slytherin together outside of class. They might accuse us of trying to unify the houses".

"Let them" Pucey muttered.

"I'll be wearing this ridiculous hat". I said, point towards the pink monstrosity currently residing on top of my head.

Pucey gives the hat a long-suffering look. Truly debating if he wants to been seen with me in public when I am wearing it. But he makes up his mind after a brief deliberation. "I'll endure". He promised solemnly.

If I leaned forward right now on my tip-toes, I could totally kiss him. I snap back to reality. That would be too mature for a thirteen-year-old to do. So, I cough ever so slightly and take a step back. "It's a deal, Mr. Pucey". I said, holding out my hand to him.

Lips held together in a bemused smile, Pucey straightens his back and engulfs my hand in his. As always, I feel the callouses on his hands from quidditch. It feels just as firm as I recall. "Pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Weasley". He said, shaking my hand once.

When I led Pucey to the table where Lee and I have been studying, neither boy looked too thrilled to be in the other's presence. But aside from a few scathing remarks and less than friendly looks, both boys behaved well enough. Pucey continued to read his almanac while Lee and I continued to discuss exactly what we should include in our transfiguration project. By the end of our study session, Lee and I decided that since we did most of the research, Fred and George could write most of the essay and all four of us would focus on the presentation. I was feeling pretty good about myself after we said goodbye to Pucey and Lee and I headed back to Gryffindor Tower. That is until Lee tattled to Fred and George about what I had done. They were far from pleased. And that is without mentioning Hogsmeade.


	12. My End of the Deal

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

My End of the Deal

Seven O'clock in the morning on October the 12th, a Saturday; I found myself staring at the contents of my wardrobe all laid out on my bed. I had just showered, so I stood before my bed in just my bathrobe with wet hair sticking to the side of my face. Within this setting, I was struck with deep contemplation. Why is it that the majority of my clothes are boys' clothes? It's a stupid question. One that I know the answer to. I'm a girl with six brothers from a family that's on a budget. What can be handed down to me is, and I've never cared about that until today. So, this is the first time I've asked myself that question. Usually, I don't even take the time to plan out outfits. Since Hogwarts requires a uniform, the majority of the time I don't have to think about it. The rest of the time I just put on whatever is clean and whatever I grab first. Outside of when I am in uniform, I think it's been years since I've last worn matching socks.

Though, I feel like I should wear matching socks today. I thought as I chewed on my bottom lip. Maybe even color coordinate them to my top. That's a thing people do, right? "Holly", Alicia asked, from where she was sitting on her bed brushing her hair. "What are you doing? You've been standing there for the last five minutes without moving".

Broken out of my clothing dilemma, I look up at Alicia. Since it was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, Wood hadn't assigned quidditch practice for today. Probably to avoid his players rioting on him. Which explains why Alicia is currently here and not on the quidditch pitch. Angelina too, except she decided to take advantage of this morning and sleep in. Releasing my lower lip, I decided to seek input. "How do girls know what to wear," I asked after a moment.

Alicia pulls her brush through her hair one last time before looking more squarely at me. "Pardon?" she asked.

I move my lips around as I try to think of a way to rephrase that question. "What should I wear that will make me look like a girl". Maybe if I wear a skirt. The only problem is that the only skirts I own are my school skirts. I'm generally happy in either just a pair of leggings or jeans. It was a preference that carried over from Jessie's life. But I won't be warm enough in just leggings. And I feel that jeans just wouldn't be special enough for today.

Alicia snorts as she sets her hairbrush down on her bedside table. She scoots over to the edge of her bed so that she can place her feet on the floor. "You are a girl," Alicia said, stating the obvious. "Unless you agreed to switch places with either Fred and George again," She said a bit sarcastically. That was a joke Fred and I tried to pull during our first year. He wanted to compare the girls' dorm to his dorm. But that was before we knew about the enchanted stairs leading to the girls' dorm. Or rather, that was before Fred knew about the enchanted stairs. I, on the other hand, sat back and laughed as Fred publicly failed to impersonate me.

"Nah," I said, waving a hand at her as I went back to studying my clothes. "That didn't work the one time we tried that since Fred and George can't go up the girl's staircase. Besides, we can't pull that joke off anymore. Not since these came in" I said, briefly running my hands over my semi-bumpy chest. I suppose that is one type of clothing that I own that isn't boys' clothes. My bras are distinctively feminine. Maybe I should just wear a bra on the outsides of my clothes today instead of under.

I hear a shuffling sound, and soon Alicia is standing on the other side of my bed, staring at all of my clothes with me. "Why do you have an obsessive amount of plaid?" She asked.

I shrugged, looking at all of the faded button-up plaid shirts that I owned. "Bill went through a phase when he was my age". I liked a lot of his old button-ups because I could use them as light layers and wear them over a t-shirt.

Alicia hummed to herself. Giving me the vague impression that my clothes aren't up to par with her style. "Why the sudden interest in your clothes?" Alicia asked.

"I'm going somewhere today with someone". I said vaguely. Not sure why. Alicia would never settle for such an undescriptive answer.

"Is this somewhere Hogsmeade?" She asked. I nod my head. Of course, whatever I end up wearing is going to have to look okay with the pink hat. "And who is the someone?" Alicia asked directly.

Should I lie? It probably wouldn't do any good. She could always just look out for me at Hogsmeade to learn who I was going with. Besides, it's not like it is meant to be a secret. Even if it does feel like one. Pucey and I have nothing to hide. "Adrian Pucey". I said after a moment, looking up at Alicia.

Her eyes grow big and she clasped her hands together over her mouth. As if both thrilled and surprised for me. "So, Fred wasn't pulling my leg about you and Pucey". But then her voice changed to one sounding closer to disbelief. "And he asked you to go to Hogsmeade with him? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor are into each other?"

I rolled my eyes. Here's why I didn't want to tell anyone. Why can't a boy and a girl go to Hogsmeade together and just be friends? Ron and Hermione did it their third-year before Harry had permission to go to the wizarding village… Okay, that might not be the best example. "Well, it wasn't like Snape could ask me to go with him". But Alicia no longer finds that joke funny, judging by her rolling eyes. "Besides, we're not into each other. I'm just returning a favor".

Alicia ignores me in favor of the narrative she is forming in her head. She moves her hands away from her mouth and clapped them on both of her cheeks instead. "Holly Weasley has a date". The way she said that made it sound like she had just found a Chupacabra in Scotland.

I wave my hands in the air with my elbows bent at my sides as if fanning away her insertion. "It's not a date. Pucey helped me out, and in return, I'm sparing him from having to spend the day with Stimpson". Still, I am ignored.

"Well," Alicia said, having turned back to my spread-out wardrobe. "I wouldn't recommend wearing your brothers' old clothes on a date-"

"It's not a date".

"But my advice would be just to wear what you are most comfortable with".

Despite this outing with Pucey not being a date, I guess that is sound advice. Surveying all of my clothes, I have an easy time finding the most comfortable thing I own. But when I pick it up, Alicia immediately shakes her head. "No, Holly." She said, sounding embarrassed on my behalf. Is that what I get for taking her advice? "Not that comfortable. You can't wear your pajamas to Hogsmeade".

With Alicia's help, I eventually end up dressed in a pair of leggings with one of my school skirts paired with a borrowed gray cardigan from Alicia. She said that it was the only decent thing either of us had that stood the chance of not clashing with the pink hat I insist on wearing. But what can I say? I choose not getting my mind broken into over fashion. Alicia insisted that I actually do something with my hair for my first date. Even though it's not a date. I usually just wear it down. I keep my red hair at a length that hangs just below my shoulder blades, so it is easy enough to manage without any work. But today, I let Alicia plait it for me after she spent about ten minutes watching me struggle to pull it into a lopsided ponytail. In my defense, all of my hairstyling knowledge comes from Bill after he decided to grow his hair long. Knowledge from my first life was no help with hairstyling. Jessie chose to wear knitted caps most days and got away with just brushing out the tangles. At 8:10 in the morning, I left Gryffindor Tower and headed for the entrance hall.

* * *

As we had discussed at an earlier time, Pucey is waiting for me by the entrance hall doors. He's dressed in a light jacket over a buttoned-up white shirt. His Slytherin scarf, the most colorful thing he is wearing, is wrapped under his chin. I wonder if he spent time thinking about what to wear as I had.

Pucey isn't alone. Holding his shoulders a bit stiffly, Pucey seemed to be restraining himself for any ill-advised actions as Stimpson hanged off of his arm. "It's alright, Adrian" The dish-water blonde simpered. "You don't need to be embarrassed. I know you're shy". At Stimpson's comment, I paused on my descent down the staircase. Squatting behind the railing, I stuffed a fist in my mouth to keep from laughing. Pucey, shy? Apparently, Stimpson and I don't know the same Pucey. Peaking over the top of the staircase railing, I study Pucey closely. The tautness of his cheeks and how hard he is clenching his fists tell me how much he is enjoying Stimpson's attention. I wonder how much he can withstand before he snaps. "That's why you said you already have plans when you don't". Stimpson is so pressed up against him, you'd think she was a koala clinging to a tree.

The urge to snigger gets to be so much that I fear that I wouldn't be able to contain it. But I manage. Was I this obnoxiously dramatic in my first life when Jessie was a young adolescent? I can't quite recall, but I hope the answer is no. There was a reason why I wasn't looking forward to going through the early teen years a second time. "Stimpson", Pucey started in a displeased yet refined voice. "I assure you. I do have an arrangement with someone else. She is merely running late".

I should take that as my cue to approach the very happy couple and give Pucey his reprieve. But I want to see what Stimpson does next. Something entertaining, I bet. "Oh," she moans in what, I image, she thinks is a sympathetic way. "Adrian, it's okay. We've all told lies before".

It was the wrong thing to say. I can tell the minute a dark cloud of indignation consumed Pucey. "You forget yourself, Stimpson". Pucey said, looking straight ahead and refusing to look anywhere in Stimpson's direction. "People of our social standing, from families that are meant to serve as pillars of our society, are not supposed to lie". Pucey voice is so cold, that Stimpson becomes frozen. Hell, even I freeze up from my hiding spot on the staircase. Even though I so desperately want to laugh about that 'pillars of society' comment. Only a Slytherin could pull off saying something so grandiose. "Now, my mother would smother me in my sleep if I laid hands on a girl. So, do me the favor, and let go". As if burned, Stimpson backs away. Acting like she doesn't recognize the person she was holding on to. And then Pucey did something truly scary. "Weasley!" At the sound of my name, I popped up from my squatting position like a jack-the-box. How did he know I was there? "Stop lurking around like a scavenger and let's go".

Forcing out a nervous, guilty laugh I adjusted the pink hat on my head as I finished walking down the stairs. "Sorry I was late. I got held up" I said, as I came to stand next to Pucey.

Pucey uses the corner of his eyes to look at me. "You don't say," he said dryly. Merlin, Pucey wears sarcasm like how I wear deodorant. Stimpson begins to sputter as if choking on a sip of water that went down the wrong way when Pucey offers me his arm. "I see you're wearing that atrocious hat" He observed as I tentatively took his arm. My hand rests on the inside portion of his elbow, and Pucey holds his arm close to his side, drawing me in.

"I told you I would be wearing it' I said with a hapless shrug.

At the same time, Stimpson regained enough of her facilities to say, "Weasley? The person you have plans with is a Gryffindor?"

With a roll of his grey eyes, Pucey leaves her with these parting words. "We will not be Gryffindors and Slytherins forever".

But his words don't seem to mean anything to Stimpson. "A Weasley" she restated.

Pucey takes the high road this time and ignores the dish-water blonde. "Let's go," he said, steering us over to the doors.

I, however; do not. Walking side by side with Pucey, I look over my shoulder at Stimpson. With my free hand, I twist it around and wiggle my fingers at the other third-year girl. "Bye Stimpson. See you in class?"

But a disapproving sigh and a tug on my occupied arm have me facing forward again. "Don't encourage her", Pucey ordered as he opened the door and we stepped out into the morning sunlight.

We don't say anything as we waited for Filch to check our names off on his list of students who have permission to go to Hogsmeade. But once we are out of earshot of the grumpy caretaker, I look up at my walking partner. "Do you really think that you're a pillar of society?"

* * *

Hogsmeade's atmosphere is light and airy, as students from different houses and years wandered from shop to shop. It felt nice to see everyone outside of their school apparel for a day. Hogsmeade is everything Bill, Charlie, and Percy said it would be. Honeydukes is packed. So packed that Pucey and I took one look at it before turning the other way. We spent an ample amount of time in the stationary store, shopping for a new quill for Pucey. He selected a simple black one that promised to have a charm on it to prevent it from becoming dull. Nothing I said could persuade him to pick the peacock one. We avoided Zonkos joke shop altogether. "No need to draw the attention of any redheads that might be nearby" Pucey had said.

The place we spent the most time at was the shrieking shake, staring at it a distance away from everyone else. It was probably the most prominent urban legend at Hogwarts; a creepy looking, crumbling house that no one was allowed to enter. Everyone wondered who owned it. Who had lived there at some point in time? If anyone had ever lived there at all. The mystery was lost on me, of course; knowing that it was just a safe haven used for an old student that had a particularly furry problem. The shack itself wasn't the reason why we spent so much time looking at it. "You'll be cold, Weasley". Pucey said as he turned away from the dilapidated building. He reaches up and untwines his scarf from around his neck.

Despite my heart speeding up, I stay still and calm as he rewraps it around my neck. It feels soft brushing against the underside of my chin, and I pick up the scents of mint and pine. Like Christmas. When Pucey is done he steps back, and his expression is calm with half of his mouth quirking upwards as he looks at me. It must be a funny sight. I can't imagine that a grey cardigan, a green and silver scarf, and a pink deerstalker is a nice-looking combination. I smiled in thanks for the scarf. "I'm glad you asked me to come with you," I said. "Even if it was just so you could avoid Stimpson".

Pucey turns back to face the shrieking shack. "You're only saying that because you got to tease her this morning. If you were truly trying to help me avoid her, you wouldn't antagonize her so".

He's probably right. "She just makes it so easy". I said, turning back to the shack as well. I bump shoulders with the solemn boy. "But was she the only reason you asked me to come here? I mean, I've seen the other members of your quidditch team. Compared to Flint and Higgins I'd think just about any girl from your house would be willing to go to Hogsmeade with you".

Pucey shrugs, as he moved his arms to hold his hands behind his back. His posture was immaculate. "I suppose," he said. "But today is my birthday. I'm allowed to associate with whoever I want on my birthday".

I turn my head to look at him. October 12th is his birthday? And he wanted to spend it with me? "Happy birthday," I said, looking forward once more. My face feels warmer and I don't think it is because of the scarf. "You're fourteen now?"

"Yes," Pucey said. But the way he said it made it sound not quite true. "Another year older," He said. "Though I suppose you are probably wondering exactly why I wanted you to go to Hogsmeade with me".

"You saw an opportunity and took advantage of it," I said. After all, it wasn't like he cornered me in the halls one day and asked me for a date. I asked for a favor and he returned in kind.

Pucey nods once, briefly tucking his chin against his chest. "You played into my cards that's for sure". A glance over his shoulder and grey eyes meet brown. "Thank you for that. I've been trying to figure out how to get you alone to talk since after the first day of school but your brothers or your friends were always an earshot away".

I move my head side to side. That's one of the consequences of having a large family. I am rarely alone. "So, you have something you want to talk about that couldn't be discussed in potions?" I asked. I was becoming more intrigued by the minute.

"No" Pucey agreed. "The topic I have in mind is far too private for potions". A lapse of silence passes between us. I want to turn my head and study the boy standing shoulder to shoulder with me. But I don't. I don't in fear that any movement would prevent Pucey from sharing whatever it is that is on his mind. "I've had my suspicions for a while now. But not enough to approach you until now". Curiouser and curiouser. "Not until I learned that you can see thestrals and the episode in Quirrell's class". Wait, what? This time I do turn to him. I turn my whole body. But Pucey isn't looking at me. "Who are you, Holly Weasley?" Pucey asked, composed as he finally faces me.

The smile he was displaying previously is gone. In its place is the calculating, guarded stare of someone else. "I think you've already answered that". I said, fighting the urge to take a step back. Did I misread Pucey? I thought he was just a boy, looking for a friend that didn't get swept away by drama. "You've said it yourself. My name is Holly Weasley".

For a second, the half-smile returns to Pucey's face. But it doesn't last. "You're good ay playing the part of a schoolgirl."

"Because I am a schoolgirl", I interrupted.

Pucey continues talking. "you'll giggle with your friends. Cause a ruckus with your brothers. And genuinely seem to be enjoying your school life. But when you think no one is looking at you, your face ages. You've seen things that our peers have not. You've thought things that no child ever has".

I don't like where this is going. "Pucey, what are you going on about?" Though, I think I know what this is about.

"You're better at it than I am" Pucey goes on to say. As if, I hadn't said anything. "keeping pace with our agemates. I find that the only way I can get by is through seeking solitude. But I still want to know. Who are you, Weasley? Or rather, who were you?"

Bullocks. Absolutely bullocks. Leave it to Pucey to piece things together. The one thing I never wanted anyone outside the family to know. Hell, I didn't even want anyone either than Fred and George to know. "How did you figure it out?" I asked. I don't want to tell the Slytherin that I was once a muggle. I don't think Pucey is as prejudice as his housemates. I have hope for the boy. But I don't need to fuel him with ammunition either.

Indulging me, Pucey answers. "The only witches and wizards who can see thestrals are the ones who have seen death. Judging on the fact that you seem to be emotionally co-dependent with your triplets, I assumed that any death you could have possibly witnessed, they would have seen it too. But, that night at the carriages, they showed no reaction to the thestrals. You did. Furthermore, when I asked you about it you refused to speak about it. So, it was either a death that occurred recently or it was too strange a thing to talk about. It's unlikely to be the first based on how your brothers were acting. Your triplets I could've accepted if they didn't seem too sad. As prone to humor as they are. But your older brother and younger brother would surely be a bit sad if someone had died. However, they've all seem to be happy." Pucey pauses to give me another look. His eyes are alit with an energy that I had never seen in him before. He has me figured out, and he knows it. But I bet there is one big detail that he is unaware of. One that only Fred, George, and I know. "And of course, then you had that fit in DADA. After the fact, it is leaked to the whole school that it was a legilimency attack. A smart move on your part". Pucey said, revealing that he knew Fred, George, and I had purposely let it be known that someone had broken into my mind. "If everyone knew it was an attack if you had another fit everyone would know what had happened. But legilimency is a funny bit of magic. If it is cast with a wand the victim will feel it. If it is cast non-verbally and without a wand, the victim won't be aware of the attack unless they are trained in occulemency. Or if they are like you. On top of all that, the only legilimency victims that seize during an attack are the ones who remember a past life. So, I ask again. Who are you, Holly Weasley? I've been dying to know".

My mind whirls. I knew there were enough clues out there that a clever person could piece together that I know of a past life. Especially after the Quirrell attack. But I didn't think someone would go to such lengths to get me alone to interrogate me about it. And definitively not Pucey, who seemed to prefer to keep to himself in most cases. He admitted it himself; he's not good at keeping up with our peers. Wait. A thought occurred to me, as Pucey and I stood in front of the shrieking shack, staring at each other. And not like we usually do. This time I am not blushing and he's not smirking. He said that I am better at it than he is. Why would he phrase it that way? It's such an odd thing to say. Why would he have to try to be on the same page as our classmates if he was normal? "You're like me!" I said, pointing a shaking finger at him. "You've died too".

In the moment of my accusation, Pucey adopts an expression of surprise. I've turned his mystery around on him. However, his surprise doesn't silence his tongue for long. "You are clever for a Gryffindor. I always thought so. Yes, I remember a past life too".

I let my pointed finger drop back to my side. One by one I recall every memory I have of Pucey. Both from my past, and Jessie's memories. But only one memory stands out. "But you said that you couldn't see the thestrals".

"I can't" Pucey assured. He sounds honest. But I'm not sure if I know anymore. "I didn't see myself die. I had my eyes closed when my lungs filled with water. And I believe my last moments were spent unconscious". He said it all as if he was merely quoting from the Daily Prophet.

"You drowned?" I asked, slowly. That sounded as bad as being stabbed to death.

Pucey nods. "It's okay. I was planning on dying. There would have been no way I could have gotten away with what I had done." This time I do take a step back. My right-hand slips into the pocket of Alicia's grey cardigan and grips the handle of my wand. If he is about to tell me that he was my murderer in our past lives, I may end up joining Sirius Black in Azkaban. Azkaban will be the only place for me if I am forced to commit homicide. "Imagine how shocked I was when I opened my eyes again, only to find out that the eyes I was looking out of weren't my first eyes". Pucey shrugs as if rolling around with a thought that was partially related to our discussion. "Though I suppose you don't have to imagine. You went through it too. I had died to be born again. I was given another life to set things right. To be better than I was the first time around".

I tighten my grip on my wand. I can currently see both of Pucey's hands. Neither one of them is holding anything. So, I don't think I am in danger. But this whole big reveal isn't settling well with me. There was no one with past lives, except perhaps Fawkes, in the books. Of course, everyone keeps mentioning other witches and wizards who remember past lives. But it never occurred to me that I might run across someone else with a similar experience. Especially not a canon character. "Who were you?" I asked, voice tremoring. I don't want to know the answer. I fear the answer. Though I couldn't stop myself from asking either. "Adrian Pucey, who were you?

Pucey's grey eyes steeled and I caught a flash of apprehension. Who was he that he didn't want me to know? "Regulus Black" … That might actually be worse than what I was theorizing. Thinking quickly, I tried to recall everything Jessie knew about Regulus Black. He was Sirius' younger brother. He was a death eater. And he died after he decided he no longer wanted to follow the dark lord. He died by drinking poison to get the locket and then was pulled into the water by the inferi. But that doesn't make sense. "Judging by the look on your face, I am assuming you know who Regulus Black was. I won't ask you how" Pucey said, bringing my attention back to him.

"How can you be fourteen when Regulus Black is your past life?"

"It confuses me too," Pucey said. "The first time I died it was 1980. The second time I was born it was 1977. Basically, I was existing in two different places at the same time. No magical theory has ever covered anything remotely similar to what I experience. At least, nothing that I've been able to get my hands on".

I don't say anything. Even though I want to. I just can't figure out how to word the questions swimming around in my head. Something similar happened to me. The Harry Potter series is set in the nineties. Jessie was born in the nineties and grew up reading the books. And then she died and was reborn in 1978. I thought it was possible because I had been reborn into a different world. But if the same thing happened to Pucey then I guess I really don't know anything.

"By the time I was three, my first life was dead, the Black family in ruin, and there was nothing I could do about it".

"When you said you wanted to do better" I trailed off. I want to know what he means. Do better how? Better as a servant of you-know-who? Better as a person who doesn't support blood supremacy?

Our eyes locked together and all I see is the boy. Not the man he claims he used to be. "I don't want to make the same mistakes that I did last time." That still doesn't tell me where he stands. His Pucey a friend like I thought him to be? Or is he someone to be wary of? Pucey gives me a moment to allow his words to sink in. But he doesn't give me too long. "Now you know who I am, Weasley. It's only fair. Who were you?"


	13. Discomfort

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Discomfort

I ran. It probably wasn't the wisest course of action. But at the moment, I didn't care. Nothing less than force could have prevented me from fleeing. Pucey, or Black, whoever he was didn't pursue me further than calling out, "Weasley! Weasley come back!" I wondered what that means. As I dashed back up to Hogwarts castle, I wondered what it meant that a not-so-dead ex-death eater didn't stop me from running away with his secret. I couldn't wrap my head around this. Either because it was illogical or because I didn't have enough information to make sense of it all. Both ways didn't matter. Only one thing was clear. There were now two unknown variables potentially screwing with the order of things. The first variable is me. The unwritten character who knew the plot and was using it to her advantage to save loved ones. The second is now Pucey. A minor character that was suddenly not so minor. I raced past the wrought iron gate that marks the border of the Hogwarts' grounds. I understand my motivation. Mine is quite clear. Don't let Fred Weasley die. The only thing that makes me an unknown variable is the fact that I don't know how my presence or actions will change the course of events. Pucey's goals, motivation, and intentions are just question marks. All I have to go off on are breadcrumbs. I sprint past Filch who yells to me, "come back here, and check in properly! Bloody brat". But before he even finished speaking, I am up the stone steps of Hogwarts' entrance. All I know is that Pucey was once Regulus black. Or so he claims. And that he wants to use his current life to avoid past mistakes. But that knowledge leads to more questions than answers. Pushing open the Hogwarts' entrance doors, I let them swing shut behind me as I bound up the stairs. Where I am running too, remains unseen. What would constitute as a mistake to Regulus? Who was in the driver's seat? Regulus or Adrian? Or was he more like me? Were Regulus and Adrian meshed together as one person like how Jessie and I are? Or was it another matter entirely? And most importantly, why would he take the risk and tell me about his past life? I take the steps two at a time as I dashed up to them. Not the smartest thing to do considering that the staircases liked to move without warning. However, I can't say that I am being very rational at the moment. The boy that I didn't like, but liked better than most was harboring a secret big enough to make things extremely difficult in the future. Potentially, this unknown second variable could destroy the future. Or, the future I am working to obtain.

I end up on the 7th-floor landing before I ran out of wind. Having run all the way from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts' 7th floor I end up hunched over, balancing my hands on my knees as my chest heaves with every breath. I have never run like that before in either of my lives. Which might partially be a contributing factor to why Jessie died before her time. In the back of my mind, I am surprised that I had that in me. But now is not the time to uncover undiscovered athletic abilities. Now's the time to think. To plan. To come up with a course of action. But as I stood on the landing of the 7th floor, panting with great effort in a hunched over position, my mind is completely blank. I don't want to think. I don't want to plan. I suspect anything that I did come up with would just be complete rubbish at this point anyway. All I want to do is cry. I shut my eyes and hold them so tight that my whole face squinches. As if that would prevent my tear ducts from overflowing. Crying, I thought to myself, would be a stupid waste of time. But thinking that doesn't lessen the urge. I had been looking forward to today. I made the effort to look somewhat nice. As nice as a person can look when wearing a pink Sherlock Holmes hat. I gave up spending my first trip to Hogsmeade with my brothers for today to happen. And it had been a lovely day. Up until Pucey dropped that bombshell. It made me wonder how much of it was real. The pleasant rapport in potions class. The friendly acknowledgment in the hallways. Him putting up with my interfering brothers. Or was it all a pretense to pull me into this... this madness.

Having regained a resting heart rate, I can return to breathing through my nose. Which I do by exhaling loudly through my nostrils. I leave my right hand pressed against my right knee, and use my left hand to cover my sweaty face. Maybe Fred and George are right. I do have horrid taste in men. Damn it! Why are those gits always right? Gah! What am I even doing? What is the point of making all of these plans regarding my knowledge of the future if something completely inconceivable, like the rebirth of Regulus Black, gets thrown into the mix? I run the hand covering my face down, pulling the skin with the motion. What am I even doing here? Does my being here actually mean anything at all?

"Er, Holly?" An unsure and slightly embarrassed voice liberates me from my existential crisis. I snap my waist up and straighten my knees so that I am in an upright standing position. Standing to my left on the 7th-floor landing are Ron and Harry. The first looks like he is trying to decide if he should be worried or apprehensive. While the second just seems concerned. "What are you doing?" Ron asked.

"Nothing, nothing," I said, giving my knee jerk response. After growing up as an accomplice to Fred and George, I learned to claim innocence before ever being accused of anything. However, the intensity of the moment I was having spurs me to say more. "Just reacting to the biggest, most ludicrous mother-" A side look at the two impressionable first-years had me tactfully rewording my intended statement. "monstrous emotional upheaval of my young life".

Every descriptive word I used had the first-years looking at me with more and more puzzlement. Evidentially, they never thought they would be witnessing a mental breakdown when the adventured outside of the common room. "Right" Ron drawled out after a moment. "Well, we were just going to Hagrid's". My youngest brother said as he started to inch around me. Yeah, that's right Ronald. Emotional upheavals are contagious. Keep your distance. But Harry didn't have to same self-preservation instincts as Ron. He grabbed Ron by his sleeve, and at Ron's inquiring expression, bobbed Harry bobbed his head in my direction. It took Ron a moment to interpret what Harry's gesture meant. But when he had it, he rolled his eyes and asked, "but are you alright?" His voice was flat as is appropriate for an obligatory question. This brat.

"Yeah, just fine". I said a little too forcibly. "Just having a mid-life crisis is all. Perfectly natural".

Ron takes on a look of vexation. "You're thirteen!" He said, gesturing at my whole person. "You're not having a mid-life crisis".

I look heavenward and roll my eyes. He's missing the point. "Well, this will be my mid-life crisis if I die when I'm twenty-five or twenty-six". I argued just for the sake of arguing. Riling up my little brother is currently a more appealing option than thinking about Adrian Pucey's past life and the miraculous return of Regulus Black.

"Bloody Hell" Ron complained as he tried to share a commiserating look with Harry.

Harry, however; has his eyes set on me. He seems to be stuck in between a place of amused laughter and genuine concern. Poor boy. He'll learn soon enough. "umm" Harry broke in before Ron and I could continue our dance of sibling repartee. "Is this… are you having another fit?" He managed to ask on his second attempt.

At Harry's question, the vexing expression melted off of Ron's face, and he really started to look me over. Glad to know that some part of him cares. I breathe in deeply through my nose in an attempt to actually calm down. No boy is worth getting this worked up over, I think to myself. I remember Jessie's mum telling her the same thing when she was sixteen and crying over a homecoming date that dumped in the middle of the dance. No boy who is the reincarnated soul of the youngest known death eater is worth getting worked up over. I think again, rephrasing it to fit my exact situation…. Yeah, not buying it. But I force myself to calm down anyway. It's one thing to snap at Ron. The boy asks for it, I swear. But it would be another thing to go off on the boy-who-lived. He just hasn't done anything to deserve a biting rapport. Give it time. I suspect by his third year he'll be able to banter with the best of us Weasleys. "This," I said in a voice that almost resembled my everyday voice as I waved a hand around the vicinity of my torso. "Is not what a seizure looks like. If I was having a fit I would be convulsing on the floor and choking on my salvia. This is me freaking out because something just got vastly over-complicated". I have to swallow after the word complicated. Otherwise, I feared might end up hunched over again due to the weight of all of the implications. Would it be reasonable to just go to bed and forget any of this ever happened?

When I confirmed that I wasn't having another episode, Ron lost his limited concern and went back to being annoyed. "Something that's over-complicated sounds like a girl problem," my brother said, wiping his hands of it. "Come on Harry. We can't help. She never makes any sense when she gets like this". After a little prodding for my dear, dear brother, Harry and Ron continued on their way to visit Hagrid. But not before I get a timid 'take care' for the black-haired first-year. Black. I think as I start to move. This time taking a much slower pace. Regulus bloody Black.

* * *

I decided that since I am already on the 7th floor it would be best to go to the common room and wait for Fred and George to stumble home. It's probably the safest place anyway since only Gryffindors and McGonagall could get in. This way Pucey couldn't sneak up on me and insist that we finish our conversation.

From within the common room, I killed time by pacing in front of the portrait entrance. Fred and George had plans to raid and pillage Honeydukes and Zonkos (In a legal fashion, of course) with Lee. So, I couldn't expect them to be back until a later time. Probably not until dinner. But that doesn't mean that I can't act like a lonely house pet until they do come back. Regulus bloody Black! They were going to lose their heads when they found out. Just like I did. Just like I am currently doing.

My pacing didn't seem to be bothering the majority of my housemates. Mostly because, besides myself, there were only two Gryffindors in the common room this Saturday afternoon; Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. Longbottom was tucked in his own little corner and was reading what looked like a potions book with half a roll of parchment rolled out in front of him. One of Snape's assignments by the look of it. He had been warily watching me for the past five minutes. Sinking further into his corner as time ticked by. If he's that nervous about a random girl walking back and forth, I don't think I have to worry about him coming over and asking what I was doing. The same can not be said about Granger. Like Longbottom, she had spent the last five minutes watching me from one of the couches by the fireplace. Unlike Longbottom, she appeared to be more eager than wary. After that day in the library with Lee, I had caught her a couple of times looking at me from across the way. Probably because I second-handedly offered to be study buddies with the girl. Hermione still hasn't made any lasting connections yet so it makes sense. A few times she's even managed to sit across from me at Gryffindor table in the great hall. But other than polite greetings, and the standard 'how are you', we don't really talk. What can I say? I spend meals with Fred and George, and they tend to be handfuls. Today, however; Granger seems to decide this her moment. Merlin, help me.

"Excuse me," the first-year said after she had crossed the room to stand in the middle of my pacing path. She has a book the size of her stomach clutched in her arms. But she has the title facing her chest so I can't see what it is.

I hummed at her to go on as I walked around her and continued to pace. I doubt I am capable of holding still at the moment. And I probably would struggle to be still until I got the chance to spill everything that's happened to Fred and George. This situation is so bizarre, they probably won't know what to do either. But I feel like it would help if I wasn't the only one panicking. Or at least, it would make me feel better. "I've been doing some reading on the side," Hermione said, nodding to the book in her arms. I continue to walk back and forth, back and forth. Reading. Awesome. Glad to see she's keeping up with a hobby. I am only half-listening. I'll probably spend the rest of my life half-listening as I doubt that I will ever be able to stop thinking about Regulus bloody Black. "It's really interesting" Hermione goes on to say. "And it relates to you. So, I wanted to ask you about it".

That got my attention. "Sure," I said, as I walked past her and kept on walking up and down the length of the room. "What's it about?" I asked as I turned around. Adrian Pucey and Regulus Black are the same person. Blah! It makes my skin crawl.

"It's about legilimency". Granger's simple sentence gave me cause to pause. At my abrupt stillness, Hermione notices that she is holding my attention. Quickly, she said, "There's an interesting chapter to. About the effect it has on witches and wizards who have experienced past lives". Bullocks. I should have locked myself in the room of requirement. "Isn't that what you are?" Hermione asked. But she answers her own question. "Because the book says that the only people who have seizures after a legilimency attack or those who have more than one set of memories. And I just… It's so rare that I wanted to talk to you about it".

Once I had comprehended Hermione's words, I turned to face her. My eyes bore into hers as she stares back at me with the start of unease growing into her expression. If Hermione Jean Granger, Ron's future wife, tells me that she was once someone else. Something equally ridiculous as Regulus reborn. Like if she was once Rowena Ravenclaw, then I am packing Fred, George, and I up and transferring the three of us to Mahoutokoro. I don't care if Mum and Dad can't afford it. I'll find a way to get us full scholarships. I don't care if none of us speak any Japanese. We are getting the hell out of dodge before any more of this… of this silliness can consume us further.

Hermione squares her shoulders, deciding that my intense look isn't enough to dissuade her curiosity. "What's it like?" She asked. "What's it like to have lived two lives?" Hermione leaned forward ever so slightly to whisper her question and in anticipation of my answer. It is a small consolation that she had the sense not to say it loud enough for Longbottom to hear.

I sigh, as some tension leaves me. She makes it sound like I have already died for the second time. But at least she isn't confessing a big, deep death-defying secret to me. Though leave it to Hermione to piece together such an important detail about my life with only a book for guidance. "That isn't something you should be going around asking people," I said, as an upsurge of tiredness suddenly engulfed me. "Past lives are rather personal" I whispered, matching her volume.

Hermione nods. "I figured" She assured me. But that didn't stop her from asking further questions. "But what is it like? Are you the same person? Or do you just have the memories of someone else? How much do you remember?"

I cut her off before she can shovel any more question marks at me. "Granger," I said slowly, reaching up to pinch the bridge of my nose. I was starting to feel the early onset symptoms of a headache coming on. Though I am unsure if the direct cause is Granger's questions, the fact that I ran all the way from Hogsmeade to the 7th floor, or Regulus bloody Black. "Kudos to you for connecting the dots," I said as earnestly as I can, considering that I'd like nothing more to just rewind the clock at this point. Granger beams at the compliment. I guess that means that my words are more powerful than my tone of voice. "But please drop the subject. I don't want people to know about this. Only my family knows about my past, and frankly, it isn't any of your business".

Hermione's face falls. And if it wasn't for Regulus bloody Black ruining my image of Pucey then I would have probably felt bad. "I understand," the first-year girl said as she looked down at her Mary Jane shoes. "I won't tell anyone".

"Thank you," I said, finally managing a breath of relief.

But then her bushy little head popped back up. "But can you answer just one question?" She asked, holding up one finger.

My shoulders sagged as I responded with, "I'm going to bed".

"Wait, it's only one O'clock" Hermione called as I passed her, dragging my feet in the direction of the dormitories. When I don't answer her, Hermione called out something else. "That's the boys' dorm! You're going up the wrong set of stairs!" Without turning around, I raise my hand in the air. As if to say, 'goodnight'. I'm so done.

* * *

A little after dinner, Fred and George find me curled up on George's bed with George's pillow locked in my arms. George is one of those special people who can't stand sleeping with an unfamiliar pillow. So, he always brings his pillow from home with him. As such, the pillow's case smells like the floral detergent Mum favors and it has been a big help in calming me down. The moment I notice them, standing at the foot of George's bed with their pockets bulging, I pick up my head. But otherwise, maintain my lying door position. Their pockets are probably stuffed with all of their Hogsmeade spoils. "We need to talk," I said, morosely.

A look passed between Fred and George before the two of them join me on top of George's bed. They are the only two who have made it back yet. Lee and their other two roommates are probably still at dinner. "Sorry, Holls," Fred said as he reclined against George's headboard.

"But we're are triplets," George said as he laid down on my other side and wrapped an arm around my middle and his pillow. Effectively squeezing me between the two of them.

"We're stuck with each other for life" Fred goes on to say.

"So, you can't break up with us". George finished.

I snuggled deeper into George's hold. He was warm, and his embrace was like giving your favorite book another read. There would be no nasty surprises with him. "What?" I asked, utterly confused by their words.

"We need to talk", Fred said, quoting me. "Isn't that what all girls say when they are about to dumb a bloke?" Fred asked as he looked down at George and me.

I rolled my eyes. These two are great co-conspirators, but it always takes a bit of time to get them out of a joking mood. "Funny," I said dryly. "But we really do need to talk. Something happened today with Pucey". I started my story.

But I am not allowed to get very far. "We'll kill him" the boys interrupted as they assuredly informed me of Pucey's downfall.

"Just tell us what he did," said George.

"And we'll gut him and feed him to the giant squid," said Fred.

Well, as nice as that sounds… "No guys," I said before they could get too carried away. "you really need to hear this". And so, I told them. Everything from the moment Pucey gave me his scarf (which I still have, by the way) to the great reveal. Now, two more people know that Regulus Black is walking the Earth as Adrian Pucey. And hopefully, between the three of us, we'd be able to work out what this all means.

"Do you know what the lesson is from all of this?" George asked a while after I had spilled the beans.

I shifted my eyes back and forth from my spot in George's hold. We hadn't moved since I started talking. "Don't trust a pretty face?" I guessed.

"No," said George. "But yeah, don't do that either".

"Then what's the lesson?" I asked.

"Don't trust boys" Fred supplied the answer.

"But you two are boys". I retorted.

"Doesn't count" Fred immediately responded.

"We're your brothers" George finished.

I hummed at them as I closed my eyes. I think I sleep here tonight. I think I'll even be able to fall asleep without changing into my pajamas. I don't agree with them, of course. Not all boys are going to be untrustworthy. Not all boys are going to have past lives. But at the moment I can't disagree with them either. "Don't worry", I mumbled. "For now on I am going to stir clear of Pucey". I promised. Or at least until we know more about his intentions.


	14. October 31st

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

October 31st

As October progressed so did our transfiguration project. With the progress came the most crucial part of our project; a reversal spell. This spell, which Fred discovered after borrowing a sixth-year Gryffindor's transfiguration textbook, could be used by multiple people at once to force an animagus into his or her human form. The only problem was that it was a non-verbal spell. Non-verbal casting isn't something we'd learn unless we take DADA as sixth years during our NEWT years. But now, in order to rid ourselves of Pettigrew without condemning Sirius Black, we would have to learn it independently as third-years. A daunting task to be sure. But we could see no way around it other than telling an adult that our little brother's pet rat was actually a murderer. We figured no one would believe us or they'd ask us too many questions that we couldn't answer. So, with Lee along for the ride, we had taken to spending every evening in an empty classroom trying to cast the reversal spell on captured insects. Of course, the insects we are practicing on are actual insects so the spell wouldn't work if we cast it correctly. But it wasn't like we would be able to find an animagus to practice on. We decided that if we managed to create a blue light around our target then we were doing it right. Besides, if we fail to do it right in class, maybe we can convince McGonagall to perform it to show us how it is done. The point to all of this is that there are options.

In the days that followed, transfiguration and Pettigrew weren't our only focus. Fred, George, and I spent a fair amount of our free time discussing Pucey. Or rather, we theorized about him. What were the mistakes he was talking about? The only thing I could remember about the Regulus Black from the books was that he betrayed the dark lord after he learned about Horcruxes. But what was it about the Horcruxes that made Regulus change his mind? Or is it another reason entirely? Fred and George also had a scary theory that I hadn't even considered. What if Regulus had been capable of legilimency? Then it could have been him who broke into my mind during the first day of class in an attempt to verify if I had a past life or not. Maybe you-know-who hadn't tried to invade any of our minds at all. We had too many questions but not enough information. The only way to learn more would be if we confronted Pucey. But Fred and George were adamant that we keep our distance from the Slytherin. I, however; wasn't so sure. What if the mistakes Pucey wanted to avoid repeating was going down the dark lord's path? What if, somehow, being reborn as Pucey had reformed Regulus Black's ideals? Lord, I hate what-if questions. They're just so inefficient. Too much is dependent on imagination, and fact tends to be discarded. But when you lack facts, what-if questions tend to be the only type of questions you can ask. The biggest of all, however; was one that I kept coming back to whenever there was a quiet moment. One that kept me up at night, and made me doubt myself. Why did Pucey tell me his secret? What could he possibly gain by telling me such a thing? It just seemed like such a big risk to take. It was one thing when my family figured out about Jessie. But Jessie was never a dark witch, and my family would never have rejected me. Pucey had admitted that in his past life he was a former death eater. What had he hoped the end result would be? And of course, as Fred and George had pointed out, there was also the chance that Pucey wasn't Regulus Black at all. That he had figured out that I had a past life and made up some story to get something from me. But I don't buy that one. I don't know why. It's just, Pucey has never pegged me to be a liar.

Potions class has grown to be increasingly uncomfortable. pucey and I are always under the watchful eyes of Fred and George as we crush roots to a fine powder, or slice rats spleen, or simmer draughts at low heat. Conversation between Pucey and I have been oscillating from being one-sided to semi-hostile. He still refers to me as Weasley. I've taken to calling him Reggie when no one can hear us. And every time I do, he demands that I stop by saying, "Don't call me that!" Mostly, Pucey just asks if we can talk. I respond by asking him to pass the standard ingredient, or if I should stir our potion counter-clockwise or clockwise. My heart grows heavy every time I answer in this way. I want to talk to him. I want to learn more, about him and his past life as Regulus Black. But what if the worse of everything we theorized was true? I've done it again. I've asked a what-if question. A complete waste of energy.

Arithmancy class, however; is another matter entirely. Thursday, right before lunch, I sit in Professor Vector's classroom. I always choose the seat closest to the window. Vector's classroom is on the 7th floor, and I enjoy looking out the window at the sky when the lecture gets slow. The only problem, Pucey always chooses the seat next to mine.

"Weasley" Pucey greeted as he let his book bag drop to the stone floor before sliding into the desk adjacent to my own.

"Reggie" I returned in kind.

Immediately, Pucey's head snaps in my direction. "Don't call me that!" He exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

I look away from the window in time to watch the third-year Slytherin calm himself. In his seat, he runs a hand back and forth through his trim haircut and breathes deeply through his nose. After a moment he regained himself. Turning his head towards me, Pucey said, "Please don't call me that. You know who I am".

Brown eyes meet grey ones. I wish so badly that we could go back to a time before Hogsmeade when all Pucey was, was the cute Slytherin boy who was easy to talk to. But that wouldn't solve anything. "I thought I knew who you were", I said.

Pucey rolls his eyes. "I am Adrian Pucey," He said steadfastly. "Does having a past life prevent you from being Holly Weasley?"

Okay, that's a point for Pucey. "I thought you were my friend". I responded when I couldn't argue his line of logic. I am Holly Weasley. But I was also Jessie. If I can be two people so can Pucey. But in his case, I am not sure if that is a good thing.

Pucey's grey eyes soften, and the terseness of his face slackens. "I am your friend". He said with sincerity. Such sincerity that my toes curled and, for a moment, the world seemed to pause. "Weasley", He went on to say. "Nothing has changed. Nothing has to change. The only difference is that now you know a bit more about me".

Usually, Pucey's face is impassive; impossible to read. Right now, however; all I see is a tightly held jaw. As if he is fearing rejection. His lips are pressed together in a straight line and his eyebrows are slightly turned inward, expressing earnest intentions. And his eyes. His eyes bore into mine. Begging and asking for understanding. "Why tell me?" I asked without really meaning too. "Why tell me something so private?"

Before Pucey has the chance to answer, Professor Vector strolls to the front of the classroom and claps her hands to bring everyone to order. "Alright boys and girls," she said as she started to write on the blackboard. "Let's continue our lecture on the magical properties of the number seven".

While we had been talking the rest of our classmates had filed in with us caught unaware. At the sound of Vector's voices, both Pucey and I ducked down so we could pull parchment, quills, and ink from our respective bags. This meant that our heads were bent close together. "Weasley, let's talk". Pucey whispered. "Please, let's talk after class". But I don't promise anything.

* * *

This Thursday, Fred, George, and I have more on our plate than just plotting the demise of Wormtail and thinking about the enigma that is Adrian Pucey. Because today is Halloween. Which means that at some point tonight there is going to be a troll loose in the castle. "Do we do nothing again?" I asked as the three of us lounged around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. George sits in one of the armchairs, his left side nearest to the fire. He's reclined and sprawled out in the chair as if he had just run a marathon. Apparently, a niffler in Care of Magical Creatures class had given him a run for his money. Meanwhile, Fred and I lay on the floor perpendicular to each other. I lay with my feet bare feet pointed towards the fire and my head resting on Fred's stomach as if it were a pillow. I had kicked my shoes and stockings off not long after the three of us had sat down. There was just something about having your toes warmed by a fire that's just too enjoyable to pass up. But Percy didn't agree. I could tell because whenever he would walk past the three of us, he'd shoot our informal lounging a scandalized look. But he doesn't say anything. Lying on the floor and taking your shoes off really isn't against any of the rules. And it's Halloween. We are allowed to let our hair down on holidays. In an absent-minded way, Fred's been playing with my hair since we've adopted this position. I only hope that he doesn't cause it to knot. But after my question, he stopped.

"No!" Both boys said at the same time in incredulous voices.

I squint my eyes. "No?"

"Merlin, Holly", George said, making it sound like I had said something completely heartless.

"That's our baby brother we're talking about". Fred added.

"We're not going to let him face troll," George said in a lower voice so that the other Gryffindors wouldn't overhear. "Especially not when he only knows one or two spells".

"One of those spells being Lumos". Fred went on to say. "Ickle Ronniekins could actually get hurt".

I don't get it. They were all gung-ho about letting Ron fight his own battles when the first encounter with Fluffy occurred. Why would a troll be any different? "You two didn't want to interfere the last time," I said, trying to defend myself.

"Holls," George said sharply as if I was missing a major point. George sits up and holds his two hands palms down and parallel to each other, and in a way that I can see them from my spot on the floor. "Three-headed dog," George said, lowering his left hand below his right hand. "Troll," He said, raising his right hand even higher. "Three-headed dog," he said again. "Troll" He emphasized.

But is fluffy really any less dangerous than a troll? I feel like either one could kill a first-year easily. I scoff and look away from George as I rolled my eyes. But I don't comment. It's not like I want to do nothing. "So, what should we do then?"

Fred lightly tugs on my hair. I turn my head in his general direction. But since I am lying on top of him, I can't really look at his face. "You said this Halloween is important?" Fred asked, seeking to clarify.

"yeah," I answered, turning my head back so I was looking straight up at the ceiling. "The troll brings Harry, Ron, and Hermione together. They're supposed to become friends after this…. This event" I said, at a loss of what to actually call a troll storming the castle.

"So, we can't stop Ron and Harry from encountering the troll". George concludes.

"And we can't get Hermione out of that bathroom to avoid the troll either". I reasoned.

Fred shifts from under me. I can empathize that it is rather hard to get comfortable when there is a ten-pound head resting on your diaphragm. But like the good sister that I am, I don't move. Not even an inch. "Which means we're going to have to follow Ron and Harry" Fred decided.

* * *

We make the executive decision to head to dinner as early as possible. The Halloween feast has always been a favorite of ours. Who, other than Snape, doesn't love mounds and mounds of tooth-rotting goodness? Also, we felt it unwise to fight a mountain troll on empty stomachs. Throughout the meal, we took turns keeping an eye on Ron and Harry. Once we got the troll alert, we would have to high tail it to keep the younger boys in our line of sight. It also didn't help that I couldn't remember which bathroom the troll ends up in. In my defense, Hogwarts has a lot of bathrooms. But Fred had the Marauder's map tucked into his robe pocket in case we lost them.

I was munching on a slice of carrot cake when we heard, "Troll in the dungeons!" A flash of purple darted down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. I drop my fork at once, as Fred and George quickly swallow whatever food they had in their mouths at the time. "Troll in the dungeons!" Quirrell yelled out in his most horrified voice as he comes to a halt in the middle of the aisle. The entire hall had gone silent at his announcement. Every pair of human eyes in the school were on Quirrell. "I thought you should know," He said in a quieter voice as he staggered on his feet. A second later he was falling face-first onto the floor. As the student body erupted into a roar of blood-curdling screams, I wondered what would have happened if Quirrell had fallen backward. Would you-know-who have been hurt? I bet he would be pissed at the very least.

Amongst all of the panic, Dumbledore stood up and used magic to allow his voice to touch all corners of the hall. "Silence!" He roared. Once he had everyone's attention, Dumbledore gave directions in a much too calm of a voice. "Prefects will lead their houses to their dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons". At once, everyone started to move. Fred grabbed my hand, and I grabbed George's. It wouldn't do for any of us to be separated. In the same moment, Lee finds us in the crowd, and we all head for the exit together. As we cleared out of the great hall with the rest of our house, I vaguely wondered what Slytherin house was going to do. I mean, their dorms are in the dungeons. But it doesn't matter. Thanks to Jessie, I know everyone will be fine. Or at least, they should be. Us triplets wait for Ron and Harry to make the realization that Hermione isn't with our house. We know when they do from the moment the split from the rest of the Gryffindor first-years at the bottom of the main staircase. Fred takes the lead, tugging us after them. "Wait!" Lee called when he realized we weren't following everyone else. "Where are you going?"

"We have to get our brother" George yelled over his shoulder, right before we disappeared down one of the first-floor corridors.

We hear the smashing of porcelain and terrified screams before we make it near the girls' bathroom. Fred, myself, and George turn a corner just in time to see the tail end of Ron's robe disappear into the bathroom. Still holding hands, the three of us hurry forward. "Hermione, move!" we hear Harry yell right before we enter the scene.

Fred releases my hand, and I do the same with George. Each of us rips out our wands from our pockets. In hindsight, that is probably something we should have done before we entered the bathroom. "Help" Hermione cried as she huddles under a sink that is still standing. "Help me!"

George steps forward first. He grabs Harry by his shoulders and hauls him back. "We'll handle it" he assured the boy-who-lived once Harry had his back pressed against the bathroom wall and he was safely behind us. George doesn't give Harry time to protest, even though the boy looks ready too. Years of being big siblings have taught us to not allow our youngers to argue.

Meanwhile, Ron hadn't noticed our arrival. He was busy picking up bits of wood from the destroyed bathroom stalls and chucking them at the troll's head. "Oy!" He yelled. Anything to get the troll away from Hermione. "Pea brain!" At the same moment that the Troll turned around, Fred lunged forwarded and used his whole left arm to catch Ron around his chest and drag him backward. Unceremoniously, Ron is shoved behind us, next to Harry. But he's safe. That's all any of us care about.

"Stay there" Fred barked at Ron, as I took a small step forward, wand raised.

"Hermione!" I called to the petrified girl, as the Troll took a bumbling step towards us. Hermione looks up from under the sink. Her eyes are stained red and she is clutching her hair as if it was a helmet. "We're going to have to push the troll back. But we don't know what direction that will send him". The troll takes another step. We don't have long until he is upon us. Fred and George slink up next to me; one on either of my sides. Both of their wands are raised and ready to go. "after we finishing casting, run straight for us". The girl nods once. The only sign we get that she understood.

As the troll looms close enough that we can smell its breath, George suggested, "knockback jinx".

Fred and I nod. And a second later all three of us shouted "Flipendo!" And drew checkmarks in the air with our wands. Bursts of yellow light shoot out of our wands and slams into the troll's torso. The moment Hermione saw the light, she dashed out from under the sink and made a beeline for us. Without being told, Hermione maneuvers around Fred and joins her fellow first-years.

"Are you okay?" I hear Harry ask her as the troll stumbles backward; club flailing in the air. But the beast doesn't fully lose its balance. At the last moment, before it would have toppled over, the troll finds its footing.

"What now?" Fred asked. The troll stood up to its full height. It tightened its grip on its club. While the troll's other hand curled into a giant, meaty fist. Eyes aflame in fury the troll let out a roar that shook the room. Its saliva flew out of its mouth and smacked all of us in the face. Ugh! Disgusting. But there's no time to wipe it away.

"Maybe stupefy" I offered.

"On skin that thick?" Fred countered.

"Maybe if we hit him in the eye", George said, as the Troll took a step forward, its club raised high in the air.

"We need to contain it," I said, as panic started to consume me. I was a little tempted to try to wingardium leviosa the club like how Ron had done in the books. But I am not Ron. I doubt I would have such 'sheer dumb luck'. "Make it possible for it to move". I said out loud as I ran through every spell in my repertoire.

Fred steps forward. "I got an Idea!" He yelled as the troll started to swing his club down at an alarming speed. "Ebublio!" Fred cried as he drew a big circle in the air with his wand. A blue sphere started to form in front of Fred before it fired off in the direction of the troll. The troll gave one last angry roar before he was silenced. Encased by Fred's giant bubble spell, we could no longer hear the beast. Floating a couple of feet up in the air, all the troll could do was pound on the inside of the bubble. However, nothing would burst the bubble. Not until the jinx wore off.

Unfortunately, the troll's club was not in the bubble with him. "Fred! Watch out!" George yelled soon after Fred had cast the bubble spell. My head snapped up, along with Fred's, in time to see the club cartwheeling in the air, heading straight for Fred. The stupid troll must have let go of it when it got hit with the ebublio jinx.

"Fred!" I screamed loud enough that I would probably be hoarse in the morning.

"Move, Fred! Move!" Ron yelled from somewhere behind me.

A figure pushed past me. The next split second I found myself staring at the back of a Slytherin school robe. But I wouldn't register that until later. "Accio Fred Weasley!" The new person shouted as he drew an arch in the air with a tight flick of his wrist. Moments away from being clobbered by the club, Fred is pulled backward by an invisible force. The club misses him by centimeters as it clatters on the bathroom floor, denting the tile. Fred collides with the mystery newcomer and the two of them topple to the ground with Fred on top. Silence fills the bathroom as everyone breathes and takes a moment to catch up.

"Fred!" I cried as I took a couple of steps to be in front of the pair. I dropped to my knees and reached out to pull Fred into a hug. "Are you alright?" I asked once Fred was out of the new comer's lap. "You weren't hit?" I wrapped my arms around Fred's neck as I neared the point of hysterics. That was close. Too close.

Fred's arms slowly embraced my middle. "I'm alright, Holly" Fred promised in his most serious voice. He squeezed me as hard as he could as I started to sob into his shoulder. Too close. The one thing that I am trying to prevent just came way too close to happening. "I'm alright".

I don't get the chance to find out who Fred's savior is before the staff arrives. "Oh! Oh, my..." McGonagall exclaimed. That was how I knew she had entered the bathroom. I look up from Fred's shoulder to see her, Snape, and Quirrell all walking in and taking the scene of seven students and a troll stuck in a bubble with great surprise.

I move first, but Fred and I both pull ourselves up off of the bathroom floor, breaking our hug. Though, Fred leaves one of his arms wrapped around my waist. George is standing over by the first-years. He has Ron snuggly tucked under his arm, and Hermione attached to his shirt like static cling. Harry too, looked a bit pale. I suspect that if George had a free arm, Harry would be tucked under the other. But Ron is our brother, so he takes priority. And Hermione did almost get assaulted by a troll. So, Mr. Potter will just have to wait. In between us stands the teachers. McGonagall's shock was quickly changing into anger as she stared at us all. Quirrell looked absolutely horrified, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was all fake. While Snape just looked livid. Only then, do I notice who the newcomer is. Pucey, in all of his Adrian Pucey glory, stands a little way off from Fred and me. His wand is in his right hand and he keeps glancing between Snape and me. As if he is waiting for Snape to grind him into ground beef, but he wanted to check in with me as well. Pucey saved my brother! Adrian saved Fred. "Explain yourselves immediately!" McGonagall demanded once she found her tongue.

Fred, George, and I started a triangle of looks, asking each other who wanted to face our head's fury. But Snape would rather have an explanation from a specific person. "Pucey, speak up" He ordered, voice dripping with disapproval.

At the sound of Snape's voice, Pucey straightens his back. "When we were leaving the great hall I noticed the Weasleys leaving their housemates". Pucey said. His voice was a little shaky, but he was endeavoring to keep it strong. "I heard one of them call to Jordan that they needed to get their brother, and pieced together what they were doing. I decided to go after them. Since I am friends with Ms. Weasley", Pucey nods in my direction, and the arm Fred has around my waist tightens. "And I thought I would be safer with them anyway. Since you, Professor Quirrell", Pucey paused to gesture at the DADA professor. "said that the troll was in the dungeons I wasn't so sure if Slytherin house should be heading back to the dormitories". At this comment, Snape nods slowly. As if he approved of the reasoning. "But when I had caught up with them, they were already fighting the troll. I came in at the end. Weasley", Pucey gestured to Fred. It must be hard having so many Weasleys in one room without being on a first-name basis with any of us. "had already cast the ebublio jinx. I had just enough time to get him out of the way of the trolls falling club. But I don't know what happened before I arrived" Pucey said, throwing the floor to us.

McGonagall turns to Fred and me with an expectant look on her face. She wants us to finish the story. But before either of us can speak up, Hermione beats us to it. "It's my fault". She said as she let go of George's shirt and stepped forward, wiping her eyes as she went. "I went looking for the troll. I thought I could handle it", she lied as she made eye contact with McGonagall. "But it would have killed me if Harry and Ron hadn't come in. And" Hermione paused to wait out a small tremor. "And it would have killed Ron and Harry if Ron's brothers and sister hadn't followed them. They made Ron and Harry stay behind them and used magic to push the troll back so that I could get out of the way. You know what happened next". Hermione said, looking guiltily down at her feet. What a little actress. A round of applause for Miss Granger!

"What an extremely foolish thing to do!" McGonagall exclaimed with the appropriate arm gestures to emphasize her point. "I expected more from you, Ms. Granger. Five points from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment". McGonagall moved on. "As for the rest of you. I hope you realize how fortunate you are. Not many students could take on a troll and walk away without a trip to the hospital wing. Five points will be awarded to each of you for quick thinking, and working together". McGonagall took her time to look at all of us individually before she settled on Pucey. The only one who looked out of place. "Now, return to your dormitories at once", she ordered as she started with the first-years, ushering them out of the bathroom and away from the troll. Snape follows her with a slight limp in his step as George hangs back. He falls into pace as us four third-years exits the bathroom in Snape's wake. Leaving Quirrell to deal with the entrapped troll. Which is probably a bad idea… But what can we do about it?

Once back at the base of the grand staircase in the entrance hall, Fred, George, and I turn to face Pucey before he can disappear down to the dungeons. Pucey halts once he sees that all three of us are looking for him. We wait a little bit to make sure the first-years haven't doubled back for us, and that McGonagall or Snape wasn't nearby. "Thanks," Fred said after a moment. His tone is short, and it is unclear if he means it. "But why?"

Pucey shrugs but refuses to break eye contact with us. "I meant what I said". Pucey looks squarely at me. "I want to do better. Can't you just hear me out?"

The question is directed at me, but it takes me and my fellow triplets to answer. Fred and George look at each other, before looking at me. I crane my neck up so I can see both of them. I give them a little nod before the three of us look back at Pucey.

"Alright, Pucey", said Fred.

"You've earned it", Said George.

"We'll hear you out", I said.


	15. Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor

Hands were pinning me down; pressing into my shoulders as someone straddled my waist. A shadowed face loomed over my own. It was too dark to make out any discerning features. I don't know if it was a man or a woman. I was trying to wiggle out from under this person. Struggling to get the bottoms of my feet to press against the dirt floor so I could push up and throw the person off of me. I am unsuccessful. The person releases one of my shoulders and strikes me across the face with his or her free hand. "Stop fighting me!" The person yelled, reaching to the side and picking up a large butcher's knife by the handle. "You did this! You did this!" The person continued to yell, poising the knife to be directly over my stomach.

"Stop!" I cried; vision blurred by tears. "It wasn't my fault. Please, it wasn't my fault". The knife plunges downward, piercing my stomach, searing hot pain engulfs me, and I start to gasp as air escaped me. The moment the person pulls the knife out, blood spurts out of me like a fountain with low water pressure. There is no respite before the person stabs me again. And again. And again.

I sit upright in bed. The word 'stop' silently forming on my mouth. Little beads of sweat run down the sides of my face, leaving sticky trails as I laboriously inhale and exhale. There's no knife. There is no knife anywhere near my person. My right-hand leaves the warmth of my blankets and slides under my nightshirt. My breathing starts to calm as I feel the skin of my abdomen. There's no blood. No gaping wounds. There aren't even any scars. I look to my left and see Angelina and Alicia blissfully asleep in their beds. I look right and see that two other girls who I don't care to know are doing the same. I am in the Gryffindor dormitories. I am in the dorms where there aren't any dirt floors. Closing my eyes, I remind myself that Jessie is dead. Jessie is dead and I am Holly. Holly who is currently in a safe place.

Despite what I tell myself in an attempt to soothe my nerves, I still climb out of bed. On the balls of my feet, I stalk out of the third-year girls' dorm. The Gryffindor common room is empty, and the fire had been reduced to smoldering ash. I don't linger. After one look around the common room, I head for the stairs leading to the boys' dorms. I'd been doing so well. At least a month had passed since the last time I felt the need to seek out my fellow triplets in the middle of the night. It had been beautiful. A whole month of uninterrupted sleep. It's easy getting to Fred and George's dorm. I've done it so many times that I could probably do it with my eyes closed. When I slip inside my brothers' dorm, I see an image very reminiscent of the third-year girls' dorm. Five boys lie asleep in their beds. I know three of them, and there are two more that I don't care to know. I tip-toe over to Fred and George. As usual, Fred is sprawled out on his stomach, so I choose George's bed. He doesn't wake as I climb under his covers. And in a way, I prefer it that he remains asleep. It's a reassurance when George or Fred sleep through a murder dream night. As if their slumber is proof that everything is fine. The world is still spinning and the ground isn't about to crumble out from under me. I don't go back to sleep. I don't even try. It would be impossible when my body is this wired. Instead, I stare up at the ceiling and think about tomorrow. Or rather, today. The first quidditch game of the season is today. Gryffindor against Slytherin. Quirrell would try to throw Harry from his broom by magical means, and Hermione would set Snape on fire. It's okay though. Fred and George have a plan. And we really couldn't care less if Granger set fire to Snape's robes. The git has it coming. What I am more anxious about is the talk we have planned with Pucey before the game. In the days that followed after Halloween, we never found the time to hear Pucey out as we had promised. There was always something preventing us. From curfew to suspicious teachers. From Lee's presence to quidditch practice. It was proving difficult to find a private moment to talk things out with Pucey. The meeting of a Slytherin with Gryffindors was just too unheard of to pass unnoticed. Whenever the four of us tried to get together people would stare at us, waiting to see who would pull out their wands first. But we saw an opportunity today. No one would think it odd for a Slytherin chaser to head down to the pitch early. The same goes for the two Gryffindor beaters. Likewise, it wouldn't be strange for the beaters' triplet to join them. We are rarely seen without each other, after all. So, we thought we could hide under the spectator stands before the game started. Hell, before the rest of the members of the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams arrived. Better yet, even Lee would be too occupied getting ready for his commentary to notice our absence. This way no one would suspect us. No one would interrupt us. And hopefully, I'd finally know why Pucey decided to share his secret with me.

* * *

With bags under my eyes, I trudge down the slight muddy hill behind Fred and George as we head for the pitch. All of us were wearing our Sherlock Holmes hats, and it felt appropriate. In a way, we are on an investigation. I was ready to get some answers. But on the flip side, I was also ready to take a nap. "Remember", George said as we stepped into the shadows of the stands. "We're just listening".

"No decisions" Fred agreed. "Not until we all talk". We slide under one of the stands that are covered in Ravenclaw colors. Pucey is already there waiting for us as he stands underneath the rafters. He's leaning against a rectangular post but straightens as we enter. Wearing his green quidditch robes, Pucey is a stark contrast to Fred and George's red quidditch robes. We stand in a single file line, shoulder to shoulder. Fred on the right, George in the middle, and me at the end. For a while, no one says anything. Perfectly content with a stare off as the boys size each other up.

"Weasleys" Pucey greeted after a long moment.

"Pucey," Fred said in turn.

At the same time, George greeted him with, "Black".

I decide to throw something entirely different out. "Puck".

All three boys turned their eyes to me. "What?" George asked.

I responded with a shrug. "It's Pucey and Black combined".

George rolls his eyes and Fred hangs his head. "Please, Jolly Holly. Leave the jokes to us". Fred begged, before turning back to the matter at hand.

Pucey, however; sighs. "I suppose I like it better than Reggie" he drawled. Briefly, he looks me in the eyes, before turning to my brothers. "So, you two know about my past life?"

Fred and George nod. "I tell Fred and George everything", I said, affirmatively. "There are no secrets between us". Well, there haven't been any secrets between us since I let Jessie out of the bag last summer. And there is one other exception, which is a secret that occurs every month for a week. But that's a secret every girl has.

Pucey gives us a long, deep nod. "I figured you would". He said, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. When he is ready to continue, he sighed. "Alright", he said more to himself than us. As if he was trying to prepare himself. "I am Adrian Pucey. Once, I was Regulus Black". Pucey used his most definitive voice. "My current self is my present and future. Regulus Black is just memories at this point". Pucey said. Sounding very similar to how I would describe my experience. I guess that means there aren't two people inside his head. Which is always good news. "Regulus made decisions that he regretted at the end of his life. I still regret them now. One of them was ostracizing my… his older brother, Sirius. The other was taking the dark lord's mark".

With his regretted mistakes clarified, I find that I can breathe easier. "So, you don't think pure-bloods are better than everyone else?" George asked, doubt oozing out of his tone of voice.

Pucey breathes deeply through his nose. Which is our first clue that he is about to say something that we are not going to like. "Not Better," Pucey said carefully. "we're meant to be leaders. Gatekeepers protecting the magical way of life. Our culture, our heritage needs safekeeping. Generations are getting smaller and smaller. During my first education at Hogwarts, the Daily Prophet kept printing articles about the lack of magical births. I haven't noticed the same trend this second time around, but class sizes haven't increased so I can only assume that it is the same. As Regulus, I thought the solution was to follow the dark lord. To place the sacred twenty-eight in charge of the world and make sure that our culture remained as the majority culture. Even if we won't have the numbers". Pucey pauses and looks at each of us. Like he is trying to see if we are following him. If any of us agree. But he has a lot more to explain before we are swayed. "But the dark lord wasn't interested in preserving our way of life. He didn't care about half the things he preached. He wanted genocide. Absolute bloodshed. He didn't care who suffered as long as someone did. He chose the muggleborns and muggles because he knew that he could get people to do his bidding if he offered them a scapegoat. Especially after all the damage wizarding Britain took during Grindelwald's reign". It was like I was listening to Pucey telling us the wizarding world's version of world war two. Though, based on Jessie's analysis of the Harry Potter series, I was. Pucey licked his lips before continuing. "He just wanted to watch the world burn. When I figured that out, I was in too deep to walk away. He hurt a friend of mine… Well, a friend of Regulus'. So, I as Regulus decided to do something to get even with him. And that led to Regulus' death."

"Nice story" Fred breaks in. "But that doesn't answer the question. What do you think about muggles and muggleborns now?"

Pucey exhales loud enough through his nose that we could hear it. "I don't care about muggles. I don't wish them dead or enslaved, but I wouldn't care if all of them disappeared tomorrow. As for muggleborns, I don't care if they're accepted or if they're second-class. But if they are in the same boat as the rest of us, I want them to be brought into the folds of our society. There's not enough magical blood anymore to cast them out. I want them to adopt our ways and customs. And leave everything non-magical behind".

And then it clicked in my head exactly what Pucey's philosophy was. "He wants assimilation over multiculturalism. For tradition to prevail", I muttered. Intending it only for my own thoughts, but they all heard me.

At a silence that I wasn't expecting, I break out of my thoughts and look at each of the boys. All are giving me blank stares. "Multiculturalism?" George asked, clearly seeking a definition.

Oh, right. That's a much more popular topic in muggle America than it is in isolated wizarding UK. I shrugged. "Don't worry about it" I said, trying to keep our focus on figuring out Pucey's intentions. Honestly, I'm surprised they know what assimilation is. "It's just a prevalent topic in America. Has been for many years, and probably will be for many more to come". Actually, I hope it is a topic that never dies. Because when people stop discussing ideas, concepts, or anything, error slips in and people tend to stop being open-minded.

Fred and George were giving me odd looks. They give me the same look whenever I say something that is more Jessie than Holly. Pucey, on the other hand, gained some new knowledge and rolled with it. "America?" He fathomed. "Your past life was in America?"

I nodded yes since that question was directed at me. "I was a muggle too," I said. Feeling safe to admit such a thing with Fred and George present. I also wanted to test the waters. I wanted to see if socializing with an ex-muggle would get under the ex-death eater's skin.

Pucey sighs, and looks down to the ground with a shake of his head. "Shame". He said, before looking back up at us. So far, I haven't liked his response, but there is no disgust in his eyes as he looked at me. If anything, he is as cool and poised as normal. "I was hoping your past life was someone who remembered the first wizarding world".

"Why?" Asked Fred, sounding offended on my behalf. "So, you would have someone to remember the good old days with?" Fred asked, sardonically.

Pucey's face hardens as he reflects inwards. "There was nothing good about those days".

"So why tell me?" I broke in before Fred could continue his line of interrogation. "Why tell me about your past life".

Pucey answers my question with another question. "How old were you when you died?"

"Twenty-five". The dream I had last night flashed through my mind as I answered.

"So, you lived longer than I did". Pucey pauses to consider Fred and George, glancing at them in the process. But decides to rests his gaze on me. I am the only one who can understand his experience. "When I was Regulus, I died when I was eighteen. Doesn't it get annoying to know something, but not be able to say anything because there's no reason that you should know it?" I agree with a nod of my head. Yeah, it is really annoying. Especially when Dad goes on a rant about electricity, and I can't correct the parts he gets wrong because, in this life, I've never even flipped a light switch before. "I keep a list of spells and potions that we've learned". Pucey goes on to say. "Just so I know which ones I can use without raising suspicions. Regulus graduated from Hogwarts. I already know the curriculum from the core classes, and I am stuck repeating everything". Even Fred and George cringe in sympathy at Pucey's point. It's every students' nightmare to have to go through school twice. "Once I was sure you had been reborn too, I thought that if I shared my past life the two of us could have more", Pucey paused, and gave my brother's a shifty look with his eyes. It is a gesture that instantly has Fred and George's hackles raised. "More adult conversations than the ones we can have with anyone else".

Fred and George seemed to want to know exactly what Pucey meant by more 'adult' conversations. But I instantly knew what he was getting at. There had been many times that I have wanted to swipe some of Dad's firewhiskey but couldn't because I have the body of a child. Or there's been times I have wanted to talk about the stock market or the economy, but can't because I shouldn't have any concept of those things. It's maddening. From under the stands, we started to hear the approaching feet of the student body. Soon they would be filling the stands.

Fred starts to usher George and me out of our hiding place. "We'll be in touch," George said, pushing me to walk in front of him. We leave Pucey behind us.

* * *

"Welcome to the first quidditch game of the season" Lee's voice echoed across the entire pitch as he yells into the magical sound system from the teachers' seating. Sitting by my lonesome in the Gryffindor seating area, I watch as my brothers and friends enter the pitch on their brooms and zoom up in the air. It is painfully easy to spy Fred and George. And not because of their red hair. But because they have their red and blue deerstalkers on top of their heads. How they ever got Wood to let them wear them, I'll never know. All around me, Gryffindors hoot and cheer as Madam Hooch sets the bludgers free, followed by the snitch. A brief moment later, and Madam Hooch throws the quaffle up into the air and the chasers take off, squabbling for it. While the Keepers fly to their goal post and the beaters and seekers disperse.

I can't see Ron and Hermione anywhere in the stand that I am sitting in. However, I can't bring myself to worry. I am sure there are somewhere watching the match. And even if Granger doesn't set Snape on fire Harry will be fine. Fred and George have a plan after all. So, it's nothing I can worry about. Especially when I have other things on my mind. "And the quaffle is stolen my Angelina Johnson" Lee roars as he gives a play by play of the game. "What an amazing chaser Angelina is, and she's rather attractive too-".

"JORDAN!" McGonagall's disapproval is heard from all corners of the pitch.

"Sorry, Professor" Lee is quick to say. "Just stating a fact".

I want to give Pucey the benefit of the doubt. He's still not very accepting of muggles and muggleborns, but indifference is still an improvement from hating them. Maybe if he had more exposure to the outside world he would learn to feel differently. "Slytherin takes possession of the quaffle!" Lee declared. I refocused my eyes on the match to see Pucey zooming towards Wood with the quaffle under his arm. An aerial roll saves him from a bludger that George had smacked in his direction. Pucey aims and throws the quaffle, but Wood prevents it from going through the goal post at the last possible moment.

Also, Pucey wasn't fully honest with us. He didn't lie either but he had talked around the Horcruxes and the locket he had died for. I can't say that I blame him. The fragments of you-know-who's soul isn't exactly something you can work into a conversation. Clearly, both Pucey and I have information that we don't trust each other with. And that's probably a sign that I should keep him an arm's length away, but I want him to be near. I like talking to him. And the chance of talking about past lives and what being reborn is like with someone who could actually relate is very appealing. I drop my head down and cover my face in my hands just as Lee announces that Slytherin has scored. What does it say about me if I like someone who is aware that he doesn't think everyone is equal and is perfectly okay with that? But Pucey is only fourteen. There's time, right? Time for him to travel down a different path.

Around me, my fellow students gasp in horror. One boy asked, "What's he doing?" Putting my boy drama on hold, I uncovered my face and looked up. In the center of the pitch, very high up from the ground, is Harry dangling from his broomstick. The broomstick jerks up, right, left, and down as it tries to get its rider thrown. While everyone is fixated on Harry, I turn to see the staff seating section. Sure enough, I can point out Quirrell in his turban. He isn't blinking. Behind Quirrell sits Snape who is also not blinking. Here's another cannon event that hasn't been changed. I look back to the pitch. As they had planned, Fred and George had abandoned their beaters' bats the moment they notice Harry's broom going haywire. In the book, they had tried to grab Harry and pull him onto one of their brooms. But we decided that we could do better this time around. Just in case Hermione falls short. Instead, Fred and George circled under Harry. They pull out their wands from inside their quidditch robes. It took a bit of research, but we were able to come across a catch me spell. A spell that is very popular with mothers whose children like to fly. Once cast, a green glowing magical net would appear, and if Harry were to fall he would be just fine as long as Fred and George were under him. However, before they could even cast the spell the problem resolved itself. Harry's broom went still as it hovered in the air. I looked back at the staff seating. There seemed to be a commotion as Snape was standing up, and stomping his foot. I couldn't see Quirrell at all anymore. Good job, Granger. I thought as Harry swung himself back over his broom. And the game continued. Fred and George stored their wands away and flew off to retrieve their bats. Meanwhile, I was engulfed by my thoughts once more.

Should I use logic or my gut feeling to decide my Pucey problem? Of course, I haven't heard Fred and George's thoughts on the matter yet. Maybe the solution lies in their opinions. Harry takes off with accelerating speed. He must have seen the snitch. Logic is telling me to be wary. While my gut tells me to make room for Pucey. Suddenly, Harry is neck and neck with the Slytherin seeker. They point their broomsticks straight down as they hurtle after the tiny golden ball. Pucey and I have a difference of opinion. I don't agree with a caste system or tolerating only a homogenous culture. But I also don't think that a person shouldn't be excluded for thinking differently. If anything, that would exacerbate inequality instead of solving the problem. The Slytherin seeker loses his nerves and pulls out of the nosedive. But Harry keeps going. He pulls up at the last possible second. And soon he is flying only inches above the ground. Carefully Harry stands up on his moving broomstick and holds out his hand. But he can't quite reach. Pucey said he wanted to do better than when he was Regulus. He proved that when he summoned Fred away from the troll. Harry starts to inch forward in order to extend his reach. But he misjudges the balance of his broom and topples over with his broom cartwheeling over his head. Pucey doesn't like Fred. Fred doesn't him. And yet, Pucey had set aside their differences and saved Fred. Harry tumbles and rolls on the grassy part of the pitch before he comes to stop; lying flat on his back. He sits up and starts heaving as if he was about to hurl. However, when he opens his mouth out pops the snitch. Perhaps Pucey can do more. Maybe he just needs to be allowed the opportunity. I think… I think I want Adrian Pucey in my life.

"Gryffindor wins" Lee uproarious celebrates over the magical sound system. And I couldn't agree more.


	16. The Reversal Spell

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

The Reversal Spell

The four of us; being Fred, George, myself, and Lee stand around a desk in an empty classroom. Each of us are holding our wands vertically in front of our noses as we squint our eyes and wrinkle our faces. On the desktop scurries around, a beetle, and it is the center of our focus. November had flown by, and the date of our transfiguration project was drawing closer. McGonagall had already come around and collected the names of the Gryffindors staying over the holidays. So, we knew that it was time to put the finishing touches on our presentation. Blue light, the kind of color that reminds me of a computer that is booting up, shines out of the tips of our wands. Resembling lasers, four beams of blue light convene on the beetle engulfing it. The beetle is lifted, levitating about a foot above the desk. It started to twitch, and turn in the middle of the blue light; reminiscent of what I must have looked like when I was having a fit in Quirrell's class.

Seconds in, I start to feel the strain of the spell. The boys must be too, judging by the twitching of eyebrows and the sweat dripping down the sides of their faces. As our concentration wanes the light beaming out of our wands start to flicker. Not long after, all blue glowing light vanishes, and the beetle plops back down on the desktop, completely unchanged. Not that we were expecting anything to happen to the beetle. It is, after all, an everyday beetle. I take a deep breath once we were no longer maintaining the spell. "How long?" I asked, lowering my wand.

Panting, Lee lowers his wand and glances down at this wristwatch. "about forty-five seconds" he reported.

Fred nods as he rolls the wrist of his wand hand as if casting that spell was causing it to go stiff. We're close but no cigar. "We need to get it up to a minute". Fred said. "It will be more effective if we can hold it for at least a minute".

"Why?" Lee asked. "We're just using it as a visual aid. It's not like we actually have to force an animagus to turn back into a human".

In a moment of panic, my fellow triplet and I exchanged looks. What do we say? What is a valid thing we could say to explain why we need to maintain the reversal spell for a full minute? "Umm," I start to say, even though no answer has come to me.

George comes to the rescue. "Exactly, it's a visual aid. If we can hold it for a full minute that's one less minute we have to spend speaking".

Fred and I latched on to that immediately. "Yeah, I think if we can hold it longer it will really impress McGonagall". I said.

"We've been running short in presentation time anyway". Fred added, giving Lee what he thinks to be a confident look. Us Weasleys have many talents; a sense of humor, reasonably intelligent, and the ability to budget. Acting is not one of those talents.

"Alright". Lee drawled out the word. He's been with us triplets long enough to know not to take the majority of the things we say at face value. But our deceptions do seem to amuse him. At least when the end results turn up to be humorous. "Go again?" He asked.

My fellow triplets and I nod as we turn back to the beetle wandering on the desktop. Lee leads this round by raising his wand first. Just like last time, our faces scrunch up and our brows wrinkle. As if we've been holding our breath for too long. We cast the reversal spell five more times. And after the fifth, we managed to hold it fifty-five seconds. "Same time same place tomorrow?" Lee asked as we set the beetle free and packed up.

"Yeah", George said as he shouldered his book bag. "There's no quidditch practice tomorrow".

"That way we can practice the spell a couple more times before the presentation," Fred said. "George and I are almost done with the essay".

Lee nods as we head for the door. "Everyone heading back to the common room?"

"I am," I said, as I opened the door. But I don't walk through it. Instead, I lean against it to talk to my brothers and Lee. "I got a Little brother to see about borrowing his rat". Of course, borrowing is probably not the right word. I will be taking his rat and I have no intention of giving it back to him. It's for the greater good. So, I'm sure Ron will forgive me.

But Fred shakes his head. "Better go to the library then. I overheard Ron and his friends this morning. They've been spending a lot of time in the library as of late".

So, I guess I am going to the library then. "Fred? George? What about you?" Lee asked. "We could break out the exploding snap cards."

"Sorry, Mate," George said as he walked past me through the door. But he doesn't go far, he turns and leans against the door as well, looking into the classroom at Fred and Lee. "But we got a man to see about his book bag".

Lee and I look at each other. That seems too random to be anything less than mischief in the making. "Yeah, we need to inquire about his ink". Fred included.

"Make sure it's up to par."

"Wouldn't do for the man to fall short".

"Especially if he wants to hang with us", George said. At that statement, I understood what they were going on about. After the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin quidditch game, I told Fred and George that I wanted to give Pucey a chance. The discussion that followed was probably one of the most heated talks that we have ever had. There was a lot of hand waving, exclamations of 'Merlin, Holly!', and a list of every possible negative scenario on their part. My end of the discussion contained many scoffs, eye rolls, and 'yeah, buts'. In the end, I got them to concede by stating that this might be my only chance to have a friend who went through reincarnation as well. However, since Fred and George agreed to not hold Pucey responsible for his past life's actions and to give Pucey a chance they have been pranking the poor boy ruthlessly. So far, they have set Pucey's quill on fire while he was writing with it, charmed his seat to make flatulence sounds whenever he sat down, dropped a couple of firecrackers in our cauldron during potions, and a few other things.

"We have to make sure he can keep up with us," Fred said, purposely smiling at me with a wide grin.

The worse of it all is that I am supposed to be on Pucey's side, so I can't laugh. Even though I really want to. "Be nice" I ordered my brothers before biting down on my bottom lip to keep from smiling. It also didn't help that Lee was on Fred and George's side. So, he could laugh as much as he wanted. Have you ever tried not laughing when someone else is? It's like trying not to breathe.

"We are nice, Jolly Holly," George said over a snickering Lee as he bumped me with his shoulder.

"It's just a bit of hazing".

"A right of passage". Fred walked around Lee on that he was starting on my other side.

"He'll be a different man by the time we're done with him," George said, leaning down so our eye level was equal.

Fred does the same, causing me to turn my head to look at him. "A better man".

"One who we can trust with our sister", George said.

"Since you refuse to accept Lee," They said at the same time. Annoyance hits me the same time that their words do. We all know, even Lee knows, that I will never have an interest in him outside of friendship. These three idiots just keep bring it up because they think it's funny. I can't wait for the day they all get a little older and find girls that they'll actually have feelings for. Then it will be my turn to make jokes. Fred and George lean forward and kiss both of my cheeks in quick secession. "Good luck with Ron". They said as they officially walked out of the classroom and down the hallway.

I turned to Lee. "Did they haze you when we all became friends?"

* * *

It takes some searching before I find Ron and company. I had to peer around the bookshelves and walk up to tables containing first-years to see if my younger brother was amongst them. But I finally find him sitting in the back corner of the library with Harry at a table covered with books. "What are you two doing?" I asked, coming up behind Ron. I wrapped my arms over his neck and pulled his back into me for a hug. At the contact, the boy immediately complains.

"Get off!" Ron demanded as he tried to shrug me off of his person.

"No," I said, hugging him tighter. From the other side of the table, Harry watches us with a light expression. He smiles slightly as Ron tries to wiggle away from me. "I can't stop. I love you too much".

From my place behind him, I know the moment Ron's ears start to match his red hair. "Holly" Ron sputter's in complaint.

"What, was that embarrassing?" I asked, but I am not fooling anyone. We all know that a big sister claiming her love for you in front of your best friend is blush-worthy. But I can't help it. Ron just makes it too easy. "Don't be embarrassed. Harry knows I love you. Right, Harry?" I asked the bespectacled boy. Harry opens his mouth to respond with a slightly uncomfortable look on his face. He probably has not seen many sibling interactions like this before. But I don't let him respond. "Besides, it is impossible not to love your little brother when he is such a carrot top".

This comment steals Ron's ability to form actual words. For several seconds he just makes random syllables. Harry covers his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, as his shoulders shake. Such a nice friend Harry is. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn't have to attempt to subdue a laugh. I was always the type of person, in both lives, to laugh at a friend's expense. This time when Ron tries to shake me off of him, I allow it. Releasing the hold, I have around him, I fall into the bench seat beside my brother. Now able to see his face, I instantly crack up. He's so red that he really could pass as a carrot. Regaining the ability to speak, Ron turns to me and said, "we have the same hair color!" I just smile broadly at him in response. I probably only have one more year after this one of him being this cute. After that, he would turn into a surly teenager and become a lost cause. When I don't answer him, Ron takes on a distrustful expression. "What do you want?" He asked, shooting a warning look in Harry's direction. He probably wants the boy-who-lived to be on the lookout for Fred and George. A lot of our pranks involved me being the distraction, while Fred and George delivered the punchline. But the joke is on Ron. Our brothers are currently busy terrorizing someone else.

"I need to borrow Scabbers," I said, getting straight to the point.

"What? No" Was Ron's automatic answer.

"Please" I responded at once. I definitely cannot accept no as an answer for this one. "We need an animal for a project in transfiguration and Scabbers is the perfect size."

Ron looks horrified. "I'm not going to let you transfigure Scabbers!"

"Well, why not?" I asked. "Didn't you try to turn him yellow?" I looked in Harry's direction for confirmation. Harry nods and I turn back to my brother in triumph.

"Yeah, but it was a dud of a spell that you gave me!" Ron retorted.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked. It would be easier if Ron would give me Scabbers. But worst-case scenario, Fred, George and I would steal him. "Scabbers will be fine. McGonagall will make sure that nothing bad happens to him, and I'll make sure that you get him back right after our class", I lied. I had no intention of Ron setting eyes on that mass murderer ever again after transfiguration on Friday. Ron still doesn't look convinced. I need to up the ante. "If you let us borrow Scabbers, the next time there is a Hogsmeade weekend I'll buy you whatever you want and whatever I can afford from Honeydukes or Zonkos", I bribed. And it worked.

Ron's face lit up as he licked his lips. "How much do you have?"

"Five galleons", I said honestly. I had been saving them through Christmas and birthday money. "I'll spend it all on you if you let us use Scabbers".

"Alright," Ron agreed after a moment of contemplation. "But you promise that nothing will happen to him?"

I give Ron a solemn nod. "He will be perfectly safe" I lied.

"When do you need him?" Ron asked, getting all of the important details.

I stand up from the bench seat. "Friday. Can I take him before classes that morning?" Ron agreed with a quick incline of his head. "It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Weasley," I said in a prim voice. But Ron scoffs instead of joining in. He hadn't inherited the same sense of humor as me and my fellow triplets had. As Ron turns back to Harry and all the books they had laid out before them, I turn to go. As I walk away, I hear a third person join them.

"Can't believe I hadn't thought of this". I recognize the voice as Granger's. Good to know that all three of them have finally hit it off. "I check this out weeks ago for a bit of light reading". I was out of hearing distance before I could listen to the response. But I recognized that line. So, the three of them were researching Nicolas Flamel. Good to know.

Exiting the library, I run into one more individual. A very spotted and agitated individual. Pucey stands a couple of feet away from me with an expression on his face that gives me the impression that he would very much like to throttle someone. And I could understand why. All other his person were splotches of black ink. It was on the toes of his leather shoes, and all over his robes like a dalmatian. I could see splotches on his hands, in his hair, and on his face. It was like face paint gone wrong. I snorted and clapped my hands over my mouth and nose. Though that couldn't snuffle out the waves of chortling that followed. It was strong enough that the force of my laughter had me bending at the waist. "I don't know how they did it," Adrian said with a strange mixture of rage and resignment. "I don't even know how they found me. How they keep finding me!" Adrian complained, talking right over my amusement. Of course, I do know how Fred and George are always able to find him. It's all thanks to our friends; Moony, Prongs, and Padfoot. "But they managed to curse the inkwell I keep in my bag to splatter ink all over me when I went to use it!" His explanation made it more difficult to compose myself. Which is a fact that made me feel guilty. I am Pucey's friend. I shouldn't laugh at his misfortune. Unfortunately, that fact just made it funnier. Why is it that things you aren't supposed to laugh at are the funniest? "Weasley!" Pucey barks at me before I make an honest attempt to control myself together. Pucey waits until I am standing upright again, with only sporadic waves of giggles shaking my form before he said, "I thought you three decided to give me a chance." He sounds like he is accusing me. I doubt he can even hear himself.

"We are," I said, biting my lip between words to keep the chuckles on the inside. "Honestly, I'd be more concerned if they weren't pranking you. If Fred and George hated you completely then they would ignore your existence". Of course, I don't think there is anyone at the moment that Fred and George absolutely hate. I don't think that will happen until Umbridge and they unleash a portable swamp. Or until Malfoy says horrid things about our Mum and they beat him up… But Pucey doesn't need to know that they're turn out to actually be quite aggressive with people they hate. "This is a good thing", I said.

The unimpressed look on his face tells me exactly how Pucey feels about that. At least, I've stopped laughing. "Weasley," Pucey said lowly, at the end of his rope. "make them stop".

"I can't," I said, shrugging. "That would be like denying fish water. But you can always prank them back" I suggested. It definitively would be a way to gain my brothers' respect. And it would also show them that Pucey is as much as a human being as they are. Even better, a human being with a sense of humor.

Pucey reaches up with an ink-stained hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Unlike some", he said before sending me a very pointed look. "I do not feel the need to take such childish actions".

"Pity," I said, unaffected by his connotation. You learn to have thick skin to guard your feelings when you're from a family of ten. "childish actions are a lot more fun". But then I give Pucey another shrug and smile at him. "Fred and George won't stop until they're bored. So, you might as well get a couple laughs out of it too". I gave him my advice and started to walk around him. I give Pucey a wide berth. I wouldn't want to get any ink on me. "Just don't kill or seriously maim them" I threw over my shoulder as I started the trek for Gryffindor tower.

* * *

Our four-foot essay is turned in and now my brothers, Lee, and I stand in front of our transfiguration class; lecturing about how to tell an animagus apart from normal animals. "Animagi will have similar features that carry over between their human and animal forms" George explained to the class. Meanwhile, I keep my eyes focused on Scabbers. As promised, Ron had handed him to me this morning at breakfast. Fred, George, and I had a jar all prepared for him. Last night we had decided that a jar would be better than a shoebox or the like because Pettigrew wouldn't be able to chew through the glass. We made sure that the jar lid had plenty of air holes. We, ourselves, wouldn't want to be convicted for murder. But we also taped the lid down with layers and layers of spell-o-tape. The only way Pettigrew would be able to get out of the Jar before we let him out as if he transformed back into his human self. Which he couldn't do without showing himself to the student body anyway. At the start of the presentation, we had placed the jar on top of McGonagall's desk. And I have been watching him ever since with my heart pounding in my chest. Moment of truth.

"Like, if an animagus wears glasses, they may have marks around their eyes in their animal forms" Lee adds on an example to George's fact.

It's my line next. I force myself to look away from the mass murderer in the jar in favor of making eye contact with my classmates. That is what you are supposed to do during classroom presentations, after all. "It will be difficult, however; to spot an animagus in animal form if you don't already have an idea of what you should be looking for. Especially if you don't know what their animal form is." My piece done, I look back to Scabbers on McGonagall's desk. He had been calm all morning. Didn't even squirm when Ron had handed him to me. Fred, George, and I had been careful about not mentioning the transfiguration project just in case he heard us and put his guard up. Put after we had brought him out before our transfiguration class and started talking about animagi, Pettigrew had become increasingly agitated. He kept scampering from one side of the jar to the other. As if he was trying to get it to topple over and fall off of McGonagall's desk. It was the most active any of us had ever seen him. He must know that things are about to turn badly for him. My palms start to sweat in anticipation and I quickly dry them on my robes. It wouldn't due if my grip on my wand was weak when we did our demonstration.

"There is a way to force an animagus out of their animal form" Fred takes over. "It's called the reversal spell. It only affects animagi and is completely harmless to normal animals".

"But this spell can only be used non-verbally" George added.

"We've been practicing it for our visual aid" explained Lee.

"This is just a normal rat", I said as the four of us started to shift around so McGonagall and our classmates could get a good view of Scabbers. Fred and Lee stand to the left. George and I on the right. "So, you'll get to see what the spell looks like, but Scabbers will be perfectly alright", I lied as the four of us pulled out our wands. From her desk chair, McGonagall leaned forward, intrigued. So far, all of the other presentation visual aids had been posters. One very motivated group of Ravenclaws had performed a skit. But we were the first group to use a spell for our visual aid. And a non-verbal spell at that. McGonagall was probably skeptical if we could pull it off. We weren't the most academic of students, after all.

As we held our wands vertically up in front of our noses, Fred said, "We're going to leave him in the jar so he doesn't get loose". At this point, Scabbers was squeaking up a storm as he tried to throw his weight around to get the jar to fall over. Just like in practice, the four of us, scrunch our noses and squint our eyes. For a moment nothing happens except for a Ravenclaw coughing from somewhere in the back of the room. We probably look ridiculous standing up here and making such silly faces. But the next moment, blue laser-like light shoots out of our wands, and merge at the jar. Scabbers gives a terrified squeak before he is engulfed with the blue light. Please, let this work. I think as both Scabbers and the jar is lifted a few inches off of McGonagall's desk. The whole classroom gasps. A second in Scabbers' form starts to get bigger. He twitches and twists in the blue light as his form transfigures itself. McGonagall stands up all of a sudden. And it's a good thing too because at that moment Scabbers gets too big for the jar.

The jar bursts, sending shards of glass cascading down McGonagall's desk and onto the classroom floor. In the back of my mind, I hope that no one gets hit by any miscellaneous glass. But I can't think too much about it. We have to remain focused on the reversal spell. Still encased in the blue light, Scabbers becomes less and less rat-like. In a way, this spell kind of reminds me of evolving Pokemon from that cartoon Jessie used to watch after school. Soon, we see a human arm instead of a paw. Then a foot. The intensity of the spell light picks up. It gets so bright that the whole class is blinded. We can't see each other. And we can't see Scabbers. The light maintains for at least five more seconds. And when it fades the four of us lower our wands, panting and sweating from all of our efforts. But there, squatting on McGonagall's desk is a shaggy grown man with poor hygiene and rotting teeth than none of us have ever seen before.

"Merlin, what have we done!" Lee exclaims between his labored breath as he stares at the stranger. "Ron is going to kill you guys".

The rest of the class had grown silent at the grand reveal, but at Lee's words, everyone started to talk amongst themselves with a fervor rarely seen in McGonagall's class. Fred gives George and I an accomplished nod while George grabs my wandless hand and squeezes. We did it. There would be no more murderers sleeping in our brother's bed any longer. Pettigrew stares at his hands as if he can't quite believe they're there. It's a fair reaction, I suppose. His hands had been paws for many years. But when he realizes where he is and what he is, he tries to clumsily climb down from McGonagall's desk. But his limbs don't seem to be obeying him. It must be difficult going from scampering about on four paws to walking on two feet. However, McGonagall had come to her senses a lot faster than Pettigrew or any of us students. Leaning slightly over her desk, McGonagall pressing the tip of her wand at the pulse point in his neck. Pettigrew stills his escape attempt at once. "Don't move" She ordered in the most dangerous voice that we have ever heard her use. And that is coming from the students who regularly have detention with her.


	17. Lockdown

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Lockdown

"Professor McGonagall" the strange little man stuttered in a pleading voice.

McGonagall didn't react to the sound of her name. I wondered if she was shocked or if she had somehow recognized Pettigrew after all of these years. Without moving her wand, McGonagall flashed her eyes in our directions before fixating them back on Pettigrew. "Weasleys, Jordan", she addressed in a dangerously calm voice. "Step away carefully and return to your seats".

Lee didn't have to be told twice. He leads the way, and you couldn't have paid him to move faster. I followed next after getting pushed forward by George. My heartbeat hasn't stopped racing as adrenaline rushed through my veins. I can't believe that actually worked. Fred and George followed behind. I could feel them at my heels as we head for our row of desks in the back of the room.

McGonagall waited until we were out of grabbing distance before turning to a Ravenclaw sitting in the second row. "Davies, go and fetch Professor Dumbledore and any other members of staff that you see on the way. Tell them it is a matter of urgency and that a lockdown may be necessary". Davies left his seat the same time the four of us sat down in ours. We watched him go. He just about sprinted out of the door. "Everyone else is to remain quietly in their seats with their wands at hand", McGonagall said. I think she was forcing herself to talk like she was merely lecturing to keep the rest of us from panicking.

In his seat, Lee leans over and whispered down the row. "Think we'll get extra credit for this?"

Since sitting down, I hadn't been able to tear my eyes off of Pettigrew. He looks exactly how Jessie had imagined him. Giving me the feeling that I had just learned that the boogieman was real. "Not the time," I said in response to Lee.

Fred snorts. "We better get extra credit. Our spell work".

"What are the odds?" George whispered his input, sounding far too innocent to be believable.

"What do you think will happen next?" I asked. I tore my eyes away from the scene of McGonagall holding Pettigrew at wandpoint to gauge my brother's expressions. Our plan extended only as far as exposing Pettigrew. After that, all control would be taken out of our hands. We knew that. There's only so much thirteen-year-olds can do. Fred and George have foreboding expressions. I can only imagine what my face must look like. I can't keep my eyes off of Pettigrew any longer. It's like watching a burning building and not being able to do anything about it. I'm relieved, of course; getting a mass murderer away from my family and out of my house. But I'm also scared. This is it. I've officially changed things. All unexpected Pucey related things aside, the order of things is now distorted. I'm now somewhat like everyone else; not knowing what the future holds. It's a humbling thought.

Fred and George don't have an answer for me. But Lee had a comment. "You guys make it sound like you knew this was going to happen".

George blows air out of his mouth. "What? No. That's mental, mate".

"Yeah," Fred said a bit too quickly. "How could we have known this would happen? None of us are even in divination." Unlike my brothers, I keep my mouth shut. Those two are doing well enough at getting their feet stuck in their mouths. I don't need to do the same.

"Uh-huh," Lee said flatly. But luckily, he dropped the subject. Lee is probably the Gryffindor with the best self-preservation skills. A skill set that he probably picked up after spending so much time with Fred and George.

We know when Davies reached Dumbledore because Dumbledore's voice started to magically echo throughout the school. "All students are to return to their dormitories. Prefects are to take attendance and follow lockdown procedures. All heads of houses are to meet at the transfiguration classroom. All other members of staff are to follow protocol and clear the classrooms, halls, and bathrooms for any straggling students".

Gryffindors and Ravenclaws alike started to fervently mutter to each other as they moved to collect their things. But McGonagall stills them. Nobody move" she said just loud enough to gain everyone's attention. "Stay in your seats. You'll be allowed to leave once more teachers have arrived". Her wand was still pressed against Pettigrew's pulse point. Her hand was steady. But Pettigrew was not. He was twitching and whimpering. He seemed to be whispering to McGonagall. But we were sitting too far away to make out what he was saying. McGonagall never responded to him. Not once.

Dumbledore arrived first, with Flitwick following seconds behind. "Professor McGonagall" Dumbledore greeted as he swept into the classroom. His eyes briefly glance at all of us sitting students, but he had no problem identifying the problem at once. An idiot could have walked in and been able to see what the problem was right away. McGonagall pointing her wand at a scruffy adult sitting on her desk kind of gives it away. Dumbledore's eyes harden and there is no twinkle in them as he approaches the front of the room.

"Oh, My" Flitwick said in a high-pitched voice as he too noticed the strange-looking man. But unlike Dumbledore, he directs his attention to the third-years sitting behind desks. "Is everyone alright?" He asked. He lingered on Ravenclaw's side as he quickly scanned everyone with his eyes for bodily harm, but he paid adequate time on Gryffindor's side as well. That's a bonafide teacher right there; putting all students first.

However, no one answered Flitwick. There wasn't a need to, but mostly because everyone was watching Dumbledore. The great wizard had pulled out his wand. Despite this being a wizard school, I had never seen Dumbledore's wand before. I lean forward in my seat a little and tense up. The elder wand. If I am remembering correctly, that could be the elder wand. I don't know when Dumbledore got one of this particular deathly hallow. If I could get a closer look maybe I could identify it. Still, it was a provoking thought that a piece of the ended puzzle is currently in the same room that I am. "I got him, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said. He sounded like he always does. Tranquil with a touch of laissez-faire. With a nod of her head, McGonagall steps away and removes her wand from Pettigrew's neck. But she doesn't lower her wand. She keeps it trailed on Pettigrew as she walks around her desk to stand off to the right, blocking one of Pettigrew's sides. "Now, tell me what happened," Dumbledore ordered, at the same time that Snape entered the room.

Snape had no visible reaction to the sight that was before him. He spared a glance at Flitwick who was still checking in on students, but he headed straight for Dumbledore's right. He had his wand drawn before I could even blink. Now there was nowhere for Pettigrew to go. He had the wall behind him and three teachers on his other sides. "The students were giving their transfiguration presentations on animagi and human transfiguration and we made a startling discovery when a student's rat resulted in this". McGonagall answered, bobbing her head at Pettigrew. "When we were waiting for members of staff to arrive, he kept asking me to save him. To let him go. He said my name a few times. So, he is probably an old student. But I cannot place his face".

"Professor Flitwick" Dumbledore called over his shoulder. "Please escort the Ravenclaw students out of the room and notify the ministry of our intruder. It is as Mister Davies informed us to be. Professor Sprout can collect the Gryffindors once she arrives".

"Right" The littlest wizard pipped up. "Right this way, right this way". Flitwick started to wave Ravenclaws out of their seats. "Arlington, you lead. Head straight for Ravenclaw tower". Flitwick made quick work of clearly one half of the room. Leaving the other teachers to focus on Pettigrew.

"Slowly", said Dumbledore to Pettigrew. "climb down from the desk and turn to face me". His voice left no room for negotiating. I felt my brothers tense up next to me. We had never heard Dumbledore sounding so strict, so powerful before. We never really ever hear him talk except for speeches at Hogwarts' feasts.

"Shouldn't we wait for the rest of the students to be out of harm's way?" McGonagall asked before Pettigrew moved. The doors to the transfiguration classroom swung shut from behind the last Ravenclaw student and Flitwick. Our fellow Gryffindors were starting to show their restlessness through fidgeting and nervous foot tapping. But no one dared to break their silence, not with Dumbledore commanding the room.

"Nothing we can't handle," Snape said, his voice silky smooth. He turned his words to Pettigrew. "You heard him. Get down". Snape drawled out each word slowly, like pulling teeth.

With whole limbs trembling, Pettigrew did just that. His arms can barely hold him as he stumbled off McGonagall's desktop. No one attempted to help him find his footing. Given the circumstances, that wouldn't be appropriate. At the same moment, Professor Sprout barged into the room. There was dirt smattered on the hem of her robes, and they swished around her ankles as she hurried in. It makes sense that she was last. She would have had the longest commute coming from the greenhouses. "What's happened?" She asked as she rushed past us. Her face was flushed red. A sign that the slightly overweight woman had run all the way here.

"An intruder, Professor Sprout" Dumbledore said over his shoulder. Just as he had done with Flitwick. "Professor Flitwick should have contacted ministry law enforcement by now. Please escort the rest of the children out of the room, and head to the front gates to let in the aurors when they arrive".

Sprout gives herself a moment to collect herself before flapping her arms at us. "Alright Boys and Girls, gathering your things and walk out in a single file line". As we collected our book bags, Fred, George, and I shared looks. It sounded like our part was done. But I doubted this would be the last we'd hear of it.

* * *

**Intruder at Hogwarts**

By Peter Blotting

Right before students were sent home for the holidays, Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry uncovered an unauthorized, unregistered Animagus living on campus. The animagus in question has the animal form of a rat and has been reported as to living with a student as a pet. The animagus' identity has not yet been confirmed. All we know that it is a wizard roughly in his thirties and in poor health.

The man was revealed unintentionally by four third-year students during their transfiguration presentation. As they are minors, we are unable to release their names to the public. Though when questioned by aurors from the department of magical law it was learned that the children were unaware that the rat they used for their transfiguration project was actually an animagus. More alarming still, when it was learned that three of the third-years had been living with the animagus in their family home for the past ten years. In his animagus form, the wizard had been found by the three siblings' older brother and welcomed into the family as a pet. Later on, the wizard was passed down to their youngest brother so that he may have a pet of his own. When interviewed the children were rightfully disturbed to learn that an uninvited wizard living in their house for the majority of their lives. None of the children reported any suspicions that their rat was actually a man. As this is breaking news, we have not yet been able to get a testimony from the children's parents about this turn of events. But it sounds likely that no one in the household was aware of the intruder. When the youngest brother of the family was told about what happened to his rat his response was, "I let him sleep in my bed!"

As for the wizard in question, he was removed from Hogwarts by law enforcement. It was noted by Hogwarts faculty, Students and the aurors present that the man tried numerous times to escape from custody of the aurors. He has refused to identify himself. The people involved and the rest of the public can only speculate at this point why a wizard would voluntarily live as a house pet for ten years. The wizard in question is currently being held under guard in a secure room at St. Mungos as aurors try to identify him and healers work on his physical health and deducing the state of his mental health. More news to come on this puzzling case as more is revealed.

I finished reading the article in the Daily Prophet and put it aside from my breakfast plate. "You're right," I said, turning to Fred who had read the article first. "It's not that bad".

George takes the paper from where it is sitting next to my eggs and toast. "My turn," He said around a mouthful of porridge. The great hall wasn't as crowded as it normally is. Today was officially the start of winter break, as such the majority of students were busy packing for, they had to catch the Hogwarts' express. Though it would be a difficult trip down to Hogsmeade station. A heavy layer of snow had fallen the night before, and I doubt even the thestrals would have an easy time trudging through it. A lot of the students had taken the Hogwarts' intruder event with glee because it meant that afternoon-finals had been canceled. But for all of us third-years who had been in the transfiguration class, we were a lot more subdued. After all, we were the ones who saw how serious the teachers took it. From McGonagall threatening someone with her wand to Snape not making one sarcastic remark during the whole incident, and to Dumbledore who finally showed his serious side.

Fred nods as he takes a big bite of bacon. "At least that Skeeter woman didn't write it. This bloke, Blotting stuck to the facts". I agreed with Fred. Imagine what story would have been spun if Rita Skeeter had gotten her hands on it. After Sprout had led us from the classroom and directed us to return to the dormitories, Fred, George, Lee and I only spent about an hour of the lockdown there. I don't think Percy had ever been so happy to see the lot of us when we climbed through the portrait hole. As a prefect, he would have been one of the ones in charge to mark off names of all who were in Gryffindor tower. As an elder brother, it must have been scary to see everyone's names marked off except for your brothers and sister. He was probably panicking about how he would explain all of this to Mum. But Percy wasn't given much respite from his worry. After an hour passed, McGonagall came to the Gryffindor tower but not with news that the lockdown was over. Instead, she asked that I and my fellow triplets and Lee came with her to talk to the authorities. Percy had demanded to know why adjusting his glasses like a man losing his vision. But McGonagall ignored him.

"Do you think they'll print it when the ministry formally recognizes Scabbers as Pettigrew?" George asked in a lower voice once he had fished reading. I shrugged as I looked down the table at the other people who didn't need to pack. Pettigrew back from the dead wasn't nearly as earth-shattering as when you-know-here returns. So, I find it hard to believe the ministry would try to deny Pettigrew's alive. But Fudge is currently the minister of magic. He might just decide to sweep it under the rug so he doesn't have to admit that the ministry had sentenced Sirius Black to Azkaban without a trial.

After McGonagall had come to collect us, we were brought to Dumbledore's office. Two aurors proceed to ask us everything from our transfiguration assignment to where we got the rat. When they learned that the rat in question was a pet belonging to first our older brother and then our younger brother, Percy and Ron were also sent for. It was there that Percy and Ron learned that their pet rat was actually an animagus. Horrified doesn't even come close to describing Percy's and Ron's reactions. Between Lee's genuine shock at what the reversal spell uncovered and Percy's and Ron's terror, the aurors let us go, believing that none of us had known that our rat had actually been a man. Even with Fred, George, and my inability to act. The aurors even asked one or two questions about our ridiculous hats.

Ron and Percy are sitting diagonally from us a little way away with Harry. The two of them had bonded over being Scabbers owners and had come together amongst all of the horrors of the big reveal. Since yesterday, Ron had been clinging to Percy. Something he hasn't done since he was still under the impression that Percy could protect him from Fred and George. Percy didn't seem to mind. The two of them had spent the night sitting side by side in front of the fireplaces staring at the flames. And they stayed that way until Ron had fallen asleep. My eyes drifted over to Harry. Other than being empathetic to Ron's feelings, he hadn't shown any distress or anxiety to Hogwarts' intruder. Why would he? He didn't know it was Pettigrew. At this point, he doesn't even know who Pettigrew is. It was a weird feeling to watch the boy-who-lived act like it was just another day when his life was potentially about to change. If Sirius Black was released, Harry would have one more family member. This time, one he would actually want. "I hope so," I said, answering George's question.


	18. The Wonder Weasleys

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Wonder Weasleys

We spoke too soon about Rita Skeeter not getting her hands on the Pettigrew story. The next morning at the great hall, we learned that the story was just too good to pass up. Fred and George were about to blow a gasket they were laughing so hard. Me, on the other hand, was ready to bury myself ten-feet under the ground and never come out again. Today's Daily Prophet headline is, "Wonder Weasleys Discover Mouse Man; Is he a Mouse or a Man?" It read;

Intrigue swept the nation when a mysterious mouse man was uncovered at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry by the Wonder Weasleys. One can only wonder how such a lapse in security allowed for this to occur at a school. However, breaking news has occurred. I'm Rita Skeeter and I am here to provide my dear readers with all of the juicy details. The intruder at Hogwarts was exposed by Fred, George, Holly Weasley. The siblings were actually acting as the mouse man's owners, unbeknownst to them that they were harboring a grown wizard. He was revealed quite accidentally during a class project by his young owners, the Wonder Weasleys. It is a fitting name for such ambitious young wizards and witch because they had uncovered the mouse man in a display of a reversal spell that is above their year level. At least Hogwarts is doing something right.

Once the mouse man was removed from the school, aurors spent many hours searching for and confirming the identity of our rogue animagus. He is none other than Peter Pettigrew! For those who remember the name Peter Pettigrew, you will be wondering how that is possible. Ten years ago, Peter Pettigrew was claimed as dead after being massacred by notorious mass murderer Sirius Black along with twelve muggles. At the time, all the wizarding world had of Pettigrew was a finger, and it was assumed that the rest of him had been blasted to smithereens along with the muggles. However, that appears to not be the case. The mysterious mouse man is missing a finger. The same type of finger that was found at the scene of the crime many years ago. It took aurors casting facial recognition spells between old school photos of Pettigrew and the mouse man, and comparing magical cores before a positive identification occurred. Once he is fit to stand trial, Pettigrew will be charged with unlawful animagus transformation. No words as of yet from the Wonder Weasleys' parents if they will press charges against Pettigrew for trespassing. But are those the only crimes Pettigrew is guilty of? With the information that Pettigrew had not been killed many have started to question if the deranged Sirius Black is truly at fault for the massacre of twelve muggles all those ten years ago. The plot thickens with the knowledge that Black was sentenced to life in Azkaban without a trial. The ministry is in upheaval as citizens fear for the protection of their rights. If it can happen to a member of the noble house of Black, it can happen to any of us. I can only assume, that the ministry will have to release Black if they have any chance to make up for this legal blunder.

But enough about Black. Let's focus on the mouse man. the intrigue continues during his stay at St. Mungos. Pettigrew has been a curiosity to all healers on staff. How has Pettigrew maintained his animagus form for so long without losing all sense of his humanity? Animagus expert, Martin Moonshine has informed me that at this point Pettigrew may be more mouse than man. The healers have been tight-lipped about the current status of Pettigrew's wellbeing. But it does leave us to wonder if a mouse can be charged with any crime. I'm Rita Skeeter, and I will be your main source of information and details as this case progresses.

"Why?" I bemoaned as Fred and George continued to die from their shared sense of humor. I aggressively shake today's paper. "Just why? She didn't even report any new details. She just sensationalized it!"

George takes a large intake of air to calm his suffocating laughter, before swinging an arm over my shoulders. I slump due to the added weight. "That's not true, Jolly Holly", he said. "She released Pettigrew's identity".

Skeeter did do that. I grudgingly allowed. But she also called him a mouse instead of a rat. Probably because the alliteration sounded better. And she dramatized my brothers and my involvement. She even cut Lee out of her version of the story! "I actually like the title". Fred spoke up. "The wonder Weasleys. It has a nice ring to it. I think we should make T-shirts".

"You would" I muttered as I continued to look over the article. The biggest upset was the picture they had printed to go with the article. It's not a snapshot of Pettigrew, which would have made the most logical sense. Instead, it's a photo of Fred, George, and I standing shoulder to shoulder wearing our stupid Sherlock Holmes hats. We've never even seen Rita Skeeter in person before so how was this picture possible? "How did they even get a picture of us?" I exclaimed to my brothers, feeling both violated and offended. Oh, Merlin. It was bad enough that the entire school got to see me wearing this hat, but now all the Daily Prophet readers would too. Kill me. Someone please, kill me… Actually, nevermind. That's a terrible expression. I'm still having nightmares from the last time I was killed.

"I don't know, Holls", Fred answered with a badly concealed snigger. Neither Fred and George took my dramatics very seriously. If anything, it just seemed to amuse them. As if my teenage girl problems were a source of entertainment. "But I think it makes us look intriguingly handsome".

"Or pretty in your case" George included.

"I think we might ask Mum to get it framed for us".

"We can hang it on our bedroom wall".

"As a keepsake".

I drop the paper and lean into Fred as George removes his arm from my person. "You guys are the worst", I mumbled in defeat.

"Aw", Fred said between humorous snorts. "I think we broke her, George".

"It's okay, Holls", said George, joining in. "Have some bacon. That'll fix you right up". And he proceeded to stack bacon onto my plate until it looked more like a mountain of bacon instead of a plate.

"Bacon can fix anything", Fred proclaimed.

"Eat up, you'll feel better".

"And then the picture won't even bother you".

"Soon, I bet you'll even start to like our hats". George finished, flicking the pink monstrosity that's sitting on top of my head in emphasis. These gits.

* * *

This was our first time spending the holidays at Hogwarts. Mum had always been big on having the whole family together during Christmas. So, I could only wonder what had happened to make Mum choose seeing Charlie over having the rest of us home. But it didn't bother me. I've never really understood why we even celebrate Christmas. I mean, for Jessie Christmas was a mixture of a religious holiday with the birth of Jesus, and a commercial holiday complete with Santa Claus. In the wizarding world, Christmas is just a holiday without religion or Santa Claus. But we still eat lots of food and open presents from under a tree. It makes me wonder about how the wizarding world picked up the tradition of Christmas. It would make more sense if we just celebrated Yule.

There were some benefits to the school clearing out for the winter break. Such as Lee, and Fred and George's other roommates going home. With them gone, I moved into Fred and George's dorm and had taken to sleeping in Lee's bed. After the house-elves had cleaned it, of course. I don't see the point of staying in the girls' dorm by myself when I have family close by. If I'm being completely honest, I have never slept in a room by myself. Not since I was Jessie. Since the only people in Gryffindor tower are me, my brothers, and Harry, no one cared about me changing rooms. As long as McGonagall doesn't find out it should be smooth sailing.

"Holly" George called from where he was sitting on the floor with Fred. They had the marauder's map laid out between them. Plotting out Filch's comings and goings. "Can you get our transfiguration book out of Fred's trunk?"

"Why?" I asked, looking up from the magazine I was reading on Lee's bed. Alicia had left behind a couple of issues of Teen Witch Weekly, which is the wizarding world's version of Teen Vogue. It's not really my cup of tea, though the quizzes on which quidditch ball your love would be are fun. But there was an article in the latest issue about how the Bulgarian national quidditch team had placed a fourteen-year-old boy on retainer in preparation for the 1994 quidditch world cup that I was interested in. Viktor Krum had already been recognized as being an exceptional quidditch player. And he was on reserves for the 1994 quidditch world cup because he wouldn't be old enough until then. It was good to see that some things from the future as Jessie remembered it is still shaping up to be the same.

"We need it" Fred answered in place of George.

I narrowed my eyes at them. "Why?" I asked again. They really could need our transfiguration book, especially if they are planning a prank on Filch. But past experiences have taught me to always question when Fred and George ask me to open things.

George rolled his eyes. "Mrs. Norris isn't going to transfigure herself, Holls." He said it like it was obvious.

"Yeah", said Fred. "We spent most of the last term on the Scabbers issue. We need to make up for lost time".

"Poor Filch has probably been missing us". George said. Though I could assure him that Filch, in no way, shape, or form, was missing us.

"And with Pucey gone" Fred added. "We have no one to play with".

I sighed deeply. Pucey had gone home for the holidays. I wonder how he was fairing with the knowledge that the man Regulus' brother had been accused of murdering was alive. "Why can't you get it yourself?"

"You're closer," the boys said in sync.

With one more hard look, I rolled off of Lee's bed and took a couple of steps to Fred's trunk, leaving my magazine behind. It doesn't sound fishy. And we did just have one success in advance transfiguration magic. So, I suppose it isn't too far-reaching to want to try a spell on Mrs. Norris. That cat is one of our favorite targets. Though we usually lock her in suits of armor or charm her fur to be different colors. Fred's trunk used to belong to Bill, and it squeaks when you open it. That's how we tell it apart from George's trunk, which was purchased at a second-hand shop. The creaking hinges sounded just I expected them to and I leaned over to start digging for the requested book. What was unexpected was the sparkly puff of dust that exploded in my face. Fred and George roared with laughter as I started to cough. I think I might have inhaled whatever that was. Ignoring the peanut gallery currently busting a rib behind me, I look down at my person, and then swipe a hand over my forehead before looking at that too. Clinging to my clothes and skin is the very recognizable shimmering red and gold flecks. I spin around to face my brothers. "Did you really rig your trunk with a glitter bomb?" I asked Fred, although George is also equally guilty.

"As we said, Holls", George said as he and Fred reined in their mirth.

"We're making up for lost time".

I wave my arms so that I could gesture to all of me. "Why glitter? It's going to take me weeks to get this out of my hair!"

"We know," the boys said together, wearing identically pleased grins.

"That's why we chose glitter". Fred started the explanation.

"Thought it would make you look festive for the holidays".

"Would you have preferred to frog puss?"

My left eye twitches as I fight back my own giggles. There are just no words. Ugh, I should have known. Never ever open anything that Fred and George ask you to. Of course, I already knew that but decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. I thought us being triplets meant something. Pressing my lips tightly together to keep my amusement in check, I stalk towards the door. To laugh with them at my expense would only encourage them.

"Where are you going?" George called after me as I opened and stepped through the door.

"We still have Filch to mess with!" Fred yelled at my retreating back.

* * *

Professor McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose with her eyeglasses balanced on the tip. "One day," she said before opening her eyes and glaring at us from the other side of her desk. "You three have been left to your own devices for one day. And already you've been dragged to my office for mischief!" McGonagall shook her head as if she could quite accept that we were students from her house. "What does your mother do with you during breaks from school?"

I shrug with a sideways incline of my head. "She usually tries to keep us separated. And when she can't do that, she puts Ron or Percy between us. Sometimes-". George interrupted me with an elbow to my side before I can get to the part about the extra chores. Right, I get it. I shouldn't give McGonagall ideas.

McGonagall ignores my and George's interaction in favor of asking something else that was on her mind. "Do you three cause trouble like this, like changing Filch's cat yellow at home?"

"Oh, no ma'am," Fred said in earnest.

"Mum would kill us and feed us to her chickens if we tried," said George.

I couldn't tell if their answer displeased or relieved McGonagall. Either she was happy to hear that we weren't complete terrors at home for our parents, or she was displeased that she got the worst end of us during the school year. Because unlike Mum, she couldn't kill us and feed us to chickens. Maybe she was both displeased and relieved at the same time. I think that's possible. We are the wonder Weasleys, after all. "Why did you even feel the need to turn a cat yellow?"

We don't even have to think about it. "We were bored", we said at the same time.

"Honestly, Ma'am," Fred said. "Filch looked a bit depressed to us".

"And yellow is such a happy color", I said, doing my part.

"We thought it would cheer him up", George said with an unashamed smile.

Judging by the wrinkles around her lips, McGonagall can't decide if she wants to be bemused or stern. I understand her conundrum. We are incorrigible by anyone's standards. If magical day school had been an option, I think Mum still would have found a way to send us to boarding school just to get us out of her hair. "Do you think you're setting a good example for your younger brother?" McGonagall tried to appeal to our better natures.

It's Fred's turn to shrug. "We figured that's what Percy is for".

"Since he's a role model that adults approve of". I throw in my two cents.

"Honestly Professor, he's not good for much else". George finished for us.

Silence just passes between us as we just stare at each other. McGonagall with a lot more scrutiny than us three. I think if McGonagall was a lesser educator, she would have bowed her head by now and wipe her hands of us. I wouldn't blame her if she was counting the days until our graduation. Probably half of the detention slips that come across her desk are for us and Lee. "You know, you three are the only students that Mr. Filch has ever requested a restraining order against".

That perked Fred and George right up. "Really?" Fred asked as if McGonagall had just offered him a biscuit. If he and George could they'd probably wear that restraining order like a badge of honor.

McGonagall found cause to be stern in Fred's response. Her eyes narrowed as she fixed her line of sight directly on Fred. "People wanting to avoid you isn't something you should be celebrating, Mr. Weasley".

"It is when the person is Filch". George debated.

"Mr. Filch" McGonagall corrected, replacing Fred with George as her focus. "Each of you will lose ten house points for the magic you used on Mrs. Norris and for the distress you've caused our caretaker. You will also receive detention with me for the first evening of the new term for the headache you three have caused me. And I will also be writing to your mother in the hopes that she can tell me how to best prepare you three for chicken feed".

My brothers and I snorted. McGonagall's sense of humor is very subtle, but we loved it. She's the only teacher who will match our jokes with jokes of her own. Flitwick tends to just laugh along with us. Sprout either ignores us or tells us off. And we don't have a death wish, so we never try anything with Snape, if we can avoid it. "Are you sure you want us to serve detention with you, Professor?" I asked. "On account that you said it's for giving you a headache".

McGonagall sighed, but the light in her eyes tells me the game is still on. "That thought did occur to me, Miss Weasley. But, in good conscience, I can't pass off the wonder Weasleys on any other staff member" she said sarcastically. Oh, joy. She's read Skeeter's article. "They'd never forgive me". McGonagall pauses to allow us adequate time snigger like immature school children before continuing. "Please try to reframe from any more trouble for the rest of the holidays. Despite what you may believe, teachers like to have breaks as well".


	19. Father Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Father Christmas

This being my second time around the block, I avoided the childish glee of waking up early on Christmas morning due to uncontrollable anticipation. When you grow up, Christmas never gets less exciting. Unless you are one of those individuals who don't care for holidays, or you don't celebrate Christmas. However, your priorities do change. By the time Jessie turned fourteen, the best highlights of Christmas were sleeping in and eating a lot of very good food. So, when all of my siblings would wake up early and rush downstairs, Dad included, to see what was waiting for them under the tree, I was content to stay toasty warm in bed. I am that annoying relative that everyone has to wait for before they can open presents. Unfortunately, when you have siblings like mine, they have ways of making you get up.

This Christmas I woke up to an off-key and unharmonious rendition of;

Have a Jolly Holly Christmas  
She's the best sister of the year  
I don't know if she'll tango  
But have a dance or two

I turned over and groaned into my pillow. "Stop" I whined as Fred and George raised their volume.

Have a Jolly Holly Christmas  
And when you walk down the street  
Say hello to the Weasleys you know  
There's plenty of us to meet

Someone, either Fred or George, starts to tug on my blankets. In response, I chuck my pillow in the general direction of the intruder. But it was a mistake on my part. Now, I have nothing to cover my ears with.

Oh, ho! the mistletoe  
Hung where Holly can see  
Pucey waits for you  
Don't kiss her once for me

Whoever was tugging on my covers successfully yanks them off of me. Luckily, I'm not cold. The house-elves make sure everything stays ward. If only they could make sure everyone stayed quiet. Giving up, I roll back over and sit up, bleary-eyed. Both Fred and George stand at the foot of Lee's bed. A small pile of presents sits between them and the bed. They have their arms wrapped over each other's shoulders while holding their free arms away from their bodies. Their necks are bent back so they can sing the last verse to the ceiling at the top of their lungs.

Have a Jolly Holly Christmas  
And in case you didn't hear  
Oh by golly! have a Jolly Holly Christmas  
This year!

Fred and George look at me in expectation at the end of their song. Personally, I don't blame them. Waking up to a mockery of a Christmas carol is better than what they used to do when we were little. They used to wake me up at the crack of dawn by jumping on top of me until it was impossible to stay asleep. Honestly, I blame Dad. It's all his fault for that one Christmas where he insisted on singing muggle Christmas carols from a book he got from Bill… Actually, it's Bill's fault. Dad can't help himself. I'll have to write Bill and file a complaint. "Can I go back to bed, now?" I asked after a moment passed of just the three of us staring at each other.

However, it seems that my answer has offended them. "No", said George, as he lowered his raised arm in favor of a more akimbo style.

"It's Christmas, Holls," said Fred as he untwined his arm from over George's shoulder and walked over to one side of the bed.

"It's family time" George added as Fred grabbed my upper right arm and started tugging. I whimpered in complaint. "We waited for you" he goes on to say as I swung my legs over the right side of the bed and allowed Fred to pull me up all of the way. If I hadn't conceded he would have kept pulling until I fell out of bed and landed on my face. Persistent little gits, my brothers are.

"But we want to open presents", Fred said as he led us over to where George was standing near all of our Christmas hauls. At the foot of each of our beds were two parcels each. All wrapped in slightly stained brown paper. "Let's open these and then we'll drop in on Ronniekins and friend".

Fred moves away from me to sit down in front of his presents. "And then we'll track down Perce and get this Weasley party started". Said George as he too sat down on the floor in front of his pile.

I sigh but follow suit. "As long as that party can take place in the great hall".

The boys nod as we all reach for identically lumpy and soft packages. They've learned after spending thirteen years together, that the best way to keep me happy is to keep me fed. Five minutes later, we were the proud owners of three blue jumpers. One with a golden F, One with a golden G, and one with a golden H; all knitted big and bold into the middle of the jumper. The second gift we had contained Mum's famous fudge and some gingerbread biscuits. The biscuits, I could tell, had been decorated by Ginny. She's the only one who would have used that much pink frosting. I wonder how Ginny and Mum had time to bake all of this before leaving for Romania. With our usual sense of fashion, Fred, George, and I pulled our Christmas jumpers on over our pajamas and made our way to the first-year boys' dorm.

Bother Harry and Ron were already up, and by the sight of all the wrappings littering the floor they had already discovered their presents. Like us, Ron had already put on his maroon jumper with a great big R on the front. Around his lips, I could see signs of smeared melted fudge. He doesn't waste time, our little brother. "Merry Christmas" Fred and George exclaimed when we entered the room. The two first-years looked up at our unexpected entry. Ron didn't seem that impressed, but he wasn't disappointed either. Harry, on the other hand, looked excited. Has he opened the invisibility cloak yet?

"Happy Christmas" Harry returned the greeting, blushing a little. Glad to see that the Weasley Christmas cheer is contagious. I smiled at everyone as I flopped stomach down on Ron's bed. Still feeling the edges of sleep as everyone went about the morning. I had had a murderer dream the night before, so I think my tiredness is justified.

"Oh, look," Fred said as he walked over to Harry's bed and pulled up another knitted jumper from the wrappings. "Harry's got a Weasley jumper too". Except Harry's was green. A color that Mum usually used sparingly since we are a proud family of Gryffindors.

George walked over to investigate. "Better quality though". He said, taking the jumper from Fred and tossing it to Harry. "Looks like Mum puts in more effort in if you aren't family". Harry's fingers the jumper and smiles at the soft yarn. It feels nice to see something Mum made be so appreciated.

Reaching over the bed, I ruffle Ron's hair. Who immediately tries to slap my hands away. "How's the fudge?" I asked.

Ron turns just enough to see me. "She gave me extra this year," He said, eyes wide with excitement.

I smile back at him. "Mum knows it's your favorite".

At that moment, Percy enters the room. He has a violet jumper resting across his arm. "Must you make such a racket this early in the morning?" Percy scolded. But he isn't fooling me. He sought us out, meaning he wants to see us.

Fred and George are on him at once. Fred plucks the jumper from Percy and holds it out for all to see. "A 'P'!". He exclaimed. "Is that for Percy or prefect?" he asked, holding it back out for Percy to reclaim. "Well, put it on. We are wearing ours. Even Harry's got one". Fred said, nodding at Harry to put his jumper on as well. Harry happily obliged. He pulled it on over his head, and once it was set right, he looked down and smiled, tracing the letter on his chest with his fingers. I should write to Mum and tell her how much her jumper meant to the boy.

"I don't want to" Percy stated as Fred and George wrestled the jumper over Percy's head. Knocking off his glasses from one ear in the process.

But Fred and George prevailed. Once Percy's jumper was on, George said to him," You're sitting with us at breakfast".

"Christmas is family time". Fred added as he grabbed one of Percy's arms at the same time that George grabbed the other. Fred and George march Percy out of the first-years' dorm.

Still feeling drowsy, but a bit more motivated at the promise of food, I stood up from Ron's bed. "Come one, boys". I said, waiting for the two eleven-year-olds to get up. Once they are both standing, I tuck each boy under one of my arms and start to herd us in the direction of Fred and George.

* * *

However, we didn't all quite make it to the great hall. Halfway there our merry little group ran into McGonagall. After making the necessary holiday greetings, our head of house turned to Harry. "Potter," she said, making eye contact with him. "You are needed in the headmaster's office." And then to the rest of us, "you five can continue on to the great hall. Mr. Potter will join you when he can".

Harry's face had become complexed at the summons. While Ron asked, "What? Why?"

McGonagall fixed Ron with a stern gaze. "That is none of your business, Mr. Weasley". And then she turned back to Harry. "This way, Potter".

Giving us a hapless shoulder shrug Harry leaves with McGonagall, sending backward glances over his shoulder. "I wonder what that's about," Fred said as he and George looked at me, questioning if I knew anything. Subtly, I shook my head as we continued on our way. This had not happened in the book. The great hall had been reduced from five tables to one table. It was set up in the center of the room, decorated is sprigs of holly, amongst the gold serving trays. The different houses and staff intermingled as they passed plates of cinnamon buns, and scrambled eggs. We split into two groups as we filled in the end of the table; Fred, George, and I on one side and Ron and Percy on the other. Noticeably, Dumbledore was absent. Curiouser and curiouser. We made small talk as we passed food between us. At one point during our discussion about what Mum, Dad, and Ginny could possibly be seeing in Romania, I had the whole plate of cinnamon buns in front of me. I had no intention of sharing them until Flitwick asked me to pass them down. I have no problems denying my brothers the sticky goodness that is cinnamon buns. But, regrettably, it is another thing to deny a teacher. Breakfast ends with Fred and George detaining Percy before he could slip away. Harry had never joined us. "Snowball fight?" George suggested as we exited the great hall.

"We'll have to put on warmer things before going out". I said. We had all gone down to the great hall in just our pajamas and jumpers. And while they are very comfy, they aren't very waterproof. However, when we make it to the tower, outdoor adventures slip our minds. Sitting across from each other in the two armchairs by the fire was Harry and a shaggy, thin man with dark bags under his eyes. My brothers and I all pause at the sight of the unfamiliar adult in the common room. None of us knew what to do. There really isn't any protocol in place about what to do if there is an intruder in one of the common rooms, because no one by staff and house members should be able to access them. Except, this man isn't too unfamiliar to me. At the sound of all of us entering, Harry and the man turn in their chairs to look at us. Harry had lost a significant amount of color to his face, and there was a bit of pinkness to his eyes. As if he felt the urge to cry but was refusing to do so. The man stood up at the sight of us

Despite how worn he looked; the man held his arms out in welcome with a big smile on his face. "You must be Harry's friends, the Weasleys," he said. Holy crap, it's Sirus Black. "And the… and the family that helped get me out of that awful place". My brothers exchanged looks; being confused about what this man was going on about. But I wouldn't be surprised if Fred and George were close to connecting the dot.

"I'm sorry, sir," Percy said when it became apparent that no one was going to explaining how our family supposedly helped him. "Who are you?"

The man threw his head back and laughed as he lowered his arms to his side. "I forgot," he said after a moment. "That I would have to introduce myself. I'm Harry's godfather, Sirus Black".

"What… you… how" Percy stuttered as he tried to perceive what to think and what to do. "You not in Azkaban!" He finally settled on.

"No" Sirus laughed. "They let me out right in time for Christmas", he said glancing around the common room to take in all of the decorations the house-elves had placed in the common room during the start of the season. "I imagine there're be an article about it in the Daily Prophet come tomorrow". When we all continued to stare at him without giving him any notion that comprehending what he was saying, Sirus, goes on to say. "You'll have to forgive my appearance. I came straight here. Only stopping to pick up a few things. I couldn't put off seeing Harry for another minute".

We're spared from anymore awkwardness of the situation when Dumbledore walks down the stairs that lead to the boys' dorm. "A trip down memory lane is always nice". The headmaster said as he made his entrance. He seemed to be speaking only to Harry and Sirus. As if he hadn't noticed that us Weasleys had returned yet. I suspect differently. "The room looks the same as it did when I was a boy". Dumbledore stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Even the curtains hanging around the beds. They're just as ugly as I remember. You know, I set them on fire my fourth year. Accidently, of course".

"Professor?" Percy broke in.

Dumbledore looked over at us with his signature twinkle in his eyes. "Ah," he said, although he didn't sound surprised in the slightest. "I see you five have finished with the morning meal. And now you are no doubt wondering about the stranger in your common room. I can assure you that everything is as it is meant to be". Heh, that statement had me laughing on the inside. "This indeed is Sirus Black. He was released early this morning from Azkaban, cleared of all charges".

"And he's here for Harry?" Ron asked, stepping out from his spot in Percy's shadow. Concern was evident in his young voice.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. But he wasn't able to explain further.

"And you Weasleys as well" Sirus was quick to say. "If it wasn't for you two" he nodded at Percy and Ron. "keeping Peter for all of those years. And you three" he switched his attention to us triplets. "For uncovering him during your class, the Wonder Weasleys," He said with an amused twitch of his lips. Merlin, that bloody article. Damn Rita Skeeter. "I wanted to thank your parents too, but I heard that they are currently abroad. But Dumbledore… that is, Professor Dumbledore, assured me that they would be okay with me visiting with you guys, while Harry and I had our reunion". A look at Harry's face showed that he didn't see this as a reunion as Sirus did. To him, this was an introduction. An earth-shattering introduction. In Harry's third year in the books, Sirus turning out to be a good guy was a revelation that Harry embraced wholeheartedly. But maybe it was too much for an Eleven-year-old boy who believed he was alone in the world to accept. He seemed a bit shell-shocked, to be honest. Sirus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red cloth bag. With a tap of his wand, also pulled from a pocket, the bag grew until it resembled a sack. Almost as if Sirus Black was father Christmas. "I have gifts for everyone", he said with a cheeriness that lit up his whole face. This was probably the first Christmas Sirus has been able to celebrate in ten years. "Both as Christmas and thank you gifts".

We all look towards Dumbledore. He gives us a nod before anyone moves. Surprisingly, it's Ron who takes the first brave step. He pushes past all of us, and walks right to Harry's side, taking the seat on the corner of the couch closest to Harry. "You alright, mate?" I heard him whisper.

As Harry nodded his answer, Fred, George, and I moved next. Leaving Percy to follow. Fred and George take the last two seats on the couch, casting apprehensive looks at Sirus as they settled themselves. Fred sat on the opposite end from Ron and George sat in the middle. When we started this plan to reveal Pettigrew, I'm not sure if it ever occurred to them that we would one day meet Sirus Black in person. Even though I had told them about the Order of the Phoenix. With no more available seats, I sat down on George's lap, leaning against my brother as he wrapped his arms around my waist. Being as big of a family as we are, this isn't an unusual occurrence. We were always piling on top of each other as kids. And with us being triplets, we've just never grown out of it. Percy, too dignified to sit on the floor, takes his place standing next to the mantle of the fireplace. Sirus beams at us as he sits back down into his chair and starts to dig through the red sack, he had brought with him. Dumbledore moseys over to stand behind Sirus' shoulder. His hands are folded behind his back and he has a grandfatherly expression on his face. As if the prodigal son had returned. "Percy," Sirus said, looking around the room before his eyes landed on the oldest. He pulled out a dense-looking rectangular package wrapped in red paper with a gold bow. All very Gryffindor. "I heard you were quite the student," He said, holding out the book to our older brother. "I thought you might have use of this".

After adjusting his glasses, Percy takes the present with one hand. "Thank you," he said with an incline of his head. Based on the shape and size, I'm guessing it's a book. But we don't get to see what it is, because Sirus turns his attention to us. "Now, for the Wonder Weasleys". He said, digging deeper into his sack. I roll my eyes when he can't see me doing so.

Fred looks in my direction with a smirk. He mouths the word, 'T-shirts' at me. I give him a firm shake of my head. Over my dead body. The Sherlock Holmes hats are more than enough of a fashion statement for this year. "To use the reversal spell at your age, you three must be very clever". Sirus said as he pulled out a cubed box. One that is as tall as my torso. It's wrapped in purpled paper dotted with pink circles. "So, I thought that you might find many uses for this". Fred takes the box from Sirus and holds it in his lap. George and I lean in as Fred rips off the top layer of the gift. What lies on the inside has our eyes bulging.

"Blimey!" George exclaims as we examine the contents. He had bought us the greater contents of Zonko's Joke Shop. There was enough in there from frog spawn soap to dung bombs. There was enough there that we could engulf the whole school in absolute mayhem. Pucey would not be pleased when he made it back for the new term.

"I suggest" Dumbledore spoke up. "That you three us these items sparingly. We won't want Mr. Filch to be too distressed". Though, judging on Dumbledore's tone, I'm not sure if he would mind if Filch was stressed out.

"Yes, sir," Fred said with a little too much glee.

"Thank you," the three of us said together to the framed murderer.

Smiling and nodding, Sirus moves on to our younger brother. "Now Ron," He said, lacing his fingers together as he spoke. "I don't have a gift for you in my bag". Ron immediately deflated. Probably thinking that he wouldn't get one because that was just his luck. "Because it won't have survived the trip if I'd had stuffed it in there". Just as fast, Ron perked up. "I'm sorry that you lost your pet in all of this" Sirus said honestly. Then he gestured his head in the direction of the stairs that Dumbledore had come from. "Your gift is in your room. Go see". Ron didn't need to be told twice. Shooting out of his spot on the couch, Ron raced for the stair. Once he was out of view, Sirus focuses on Harry. "Now!" He said, clapping his hands once. "Christmas presents for my godson". And Sirus proceed to pull box after box from his bag. Harry unwrapped new shirts, cloaks, and the like. He got a nose biting teacup from Zonkos. And a bunch of chocolate frogs from Honeydukes.

The gifts continue to be given. Even after Ron came running back down the stairs with a little scops owl. "He got me an owl! He got me an owl!" Ron exclaimed; his face bright as he rejoined us on the couch. I was shocked. But also glad. Despite the change in timeline. Ron still got Pigwidgeon. Of course, the chances of it being the same bird were slim. And who knew what Ron would end up calling it.

The last gift Harry got was a mirror. Throughout the gift-giving, Harry had gotten increasingly withdrawn. It was like he was waiting for someone to come take everything away and tell him that it was all a joke. But the mirror seemed to confuse him. "A mirror?" he asked, looking up at his unknown godfather.

"Not just any mirror". Sirus said, excited that Harry was interacting with him. "It's a two-way mirror". Percy gasped at that. I don't blame him. Two-way mirrors are incredibly rare. "I have another one just like it. With them, we will be able to talk whenever you want. Just look into it and say my name. I'll appear in your mirror, and you'll appear in mine. I thought we can plan your room this way."

Harry's eyes widen marginally at this. "Room?" He asked, taken back. To be fair, last summer he had still been sleeping in a cupboard before his Hogwarts letters arrived. This is a big leap.

"Yes," Sirus assured, his smile infectious. "For when you come to live with me. You'll need a room. I was thinking we'd use Gryffindor colors. Maybe a quidditch theme".

Dumbledore doesn't let the two get carried away. "Sirus" he interrupts. "that's something we will have to talk about at a later time".

Sirus waves him off but drops the subject all the same. The rest of the afternoon passes with Sirus telling us stories about his time at Hogwarts. Percy interjected whenever the events of a story had a few too many broken rules for his taste. On the opposite end, Fred and George were digging for more information. No doubt, they were looking for some inspiration. Ron seemed to be listening as he uttered a "wow" or a "bloody hell" every once in a while. But his main focus was on petting the little owl perched on his shoulder. It looked like it was a match made in heaven. I didn't say anything. More interested in observing Harry than anyone else. Out of all of the people this change of events would have an effect on, Harry was probably the most vulnerable. It was a peculiar thing to watch as an orphaned boy realized that there was an adult who cared. But with each story, especially the ones involving his dad and mum, Harry came back to himself. His face regained his normal color, and soon he was leaning forward in his seat and hanging on Sirus' every word. I think we just witnessed a Christmas miracle.


	20. Our New Focus

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Our New Focus

"So, we have to look out for; a baby dragon, Quirrell killing unicorns, and the third-floor corridor", George said as he went over our list. The rest of the winter break had flown by. We had filled it with snowball fights, pestering Filch, and entertaining Ron whenever Harry's Godfather came to visit. But we also had a pressing concern on our plates. Just as Sirius had predicted, the morning after Christmas there was an article in the Daily Prophet by Peter Blotting declaring Sirius Black an innocent man and talking about Pettigrew's conviction for the setup and the murder of twelve Muggles. With Pettigrew officially out of our hairs, Fred, George, and I had to turn our focus onto the upcoming events. Or more specifically, how do we protect Ron during the third-floor corridor expedition? Do we support him while he faces danger for the first time? Or do we prevent him from going? Every time we think we are getting close to making a decision, one of us thinks of a detail that we don't want to deal with. So, we go back to the drawing board.

Fred sits upright in his bed. His legs are crossed at the ankle as he rests his back against the headboard. In an even tempo, he lightly thumps his head on it. As if that would improve our brainstorming session. "Ron won't go into the forbidden forest?" He asked.

I shake my head as I pace the length of the boys' dorm. "No, Hagrid's dragon bites him and he'll end up in the hospital wing for an infection".

"So, the questions is", George starts to say from where he is leaning against one of the windows, looking down. "is if we let Harry and Granger go to the forest".

Fred presents another problem. "Or, will Harry not seeing You-know-who drinking unicorn blood somehow negatively affect his chances of success for protecting the stone?"

I paused in pacing by the furnace that is in the middle of the room. Fred's words had me remembering something else. Something rather important. "Oh, no," I said, running a hand through my harry at the thought. Did Harry get the invisibility cloak for Christmas? Did he break curfew and stumble across the mirror of erised? Or did Sirius getting involved two years early mess up with those chain of events? Would Harry be able to get the stone if he had no encounter with the mirror previously?

"What?" George asked after a few moments past of me just standing in silence, lost in thought.

It takes me a moment before I can form coherent words. "We never checked to see if Harry got the cloak or if he discovered the mirror". I said, sharing the new conundrum with my fellow triplets.

"So?" Asked Fred as he stopped lightly thumping his head on the headboard. "It just means that Harry and Ron will have to sneak around after curfew like the rest of us. Easier for us too, if we decide to keep them out of trouble".

I snorted in an unattractive manner. "So?" I repeated Fred in an incredulous voice, shaking my head as I did so. Fred wasn't getting it. "We changed the order of things. So, we can't predict what happens next!" It was bugging me to be in the dark. It makes me wonder how everyday people without past lives do it. How Jessie lived without knowing the future.

George has adopted a different line of thinking. "Holls," He cuts me off before I can continue trying to get Fred to see why I was so concerned. "Can you go over what you remember about the third-floor corridor again?"

Rubbing my forehead in agitation, I sighed. But ultimately, I complied. "First is Fluffy. Harry, Ron, and Hermione will get past it by playing the flute that Hagrid gave Harry for Christmas… Or should have given him". Did Harry get a gift from Hagrid? Before I could return to my previous thought train, Fred shakes his head at me, and George gestures with his hands for me to go on. "Going through the trap door, they'll fall into a pit of devil's snare. Hermione will save them with Lumos. After that is the room with the flying keys. Harry uses the broom left in the room and catches the right key to unlock the next room".

"Which is the chess set," Fred said. The chess set was the obstacle that the three of us were most interested in. The giant chess game was Ron's chance to shine after all. Since I told Fred and George about all of this during last summer, we've taken to asking Ron to play Chess with us on a more frequent basis. Best to send him in prepared, if we let him go at all.

I nod. "Yes, Ron wins the game by sacrificing himself. He lives, but is left in the chamber until he gets help to make it to the hospital wing". Though it is unclear to me how Ron makes it out of the third-floor corridor. "Then it's the troll from Halloween. But it is unconscious. So Harry and Hermione have no problems getting around it".

"Second to the last obstacle is the potion's riddle". George recalled, folding his arms across his chest. His face resembled a person trying to deciphering a code. Whatever he was thinking about must be promising if he's putting that much effort into it.

I nod again. "Hermione solves it. But there's only enough potion for one person to go through. So, Harry moves on and Hermione goes back. I think she is how Ron makes it to the hospital wing, but I'm not positive".

"And the mirror?" George asked. That must be the task that is of the most interest to him.

"Quirrell is already there when Harry gets to the mirror. That's when You-know-who is revealed. He'll tell Quirrell to use Harry to get the stone from the mirror. Harry looks into the mirror, and because he wants to get the stone but doesn't want to use it, the mirror releases it to him. It materializes in his pocket and he lies and doesn't let on that he has it".

I mean to go on about how this will lead to You-know-who knowing that Harry lied, and Quirrell attacking Harry. How Harry touches Quirrell's face. And because of his mother's protection, Harry turns Quirrell into dust. Then there is also the part where You-know-who leaves Quirrell's destroyed body and flies at Harry. And how Harry survives only because he has the philosopher's stone on his person. But George chooses to focus on a detail that both Fred and I were overlooking. "So Quirrell and You-know-who can't get the stone from the mirror?"

"Yes," I said slowly. Not sure where he was going with this. "They can't get it because they want to use it".

"So, the stone is safe," said George. "as long as it is in the mirror, it's safe".

Fred catches on faster than I do. "We don't need to focus on how to help Ron and friends get through the corridor obstacles. We need to make sure that they stay in the dorms".

I wrinkled my eyebrows in confusion. What's up with this 360-degree turn? "But how would that stop Quirrell? Without Harry-" But I am not allowed to continue.

"Holly, you said Quirrell and You-know-who can't get the stone out of the mirror", Fred started to explain.

"Without Harry, there's no one to get the stone out of the mirror. Quirrell will be stuck and all of us will be safe in Gryffindor tower". George said like it was obvious.

….Huh. I was flummoxed. It was like having an epiphany and an existential crisis at the same time. Pretty much, Fred and George were saying the climax to the Philosopher's stone was completely avoidable and essentially pointless. I forced myself to exhale and it ended up sounding like a wheeze. It's like I could feel Jessie's childhood crumbling away. "So, we just need to keep the 'golden trio'" Fred said with air quotes. "inside the tower at the end of final exams".

Letting their idea sink in, I move to sit at the edge of Fred's bed with my back facing him. It's just so simple. Why didn't I think of it? "We'll try to keep Harry and Hermione from going into the forbidden forest. There's no point for Harry to encounter You-know-who as a first-year". George continues to plan as I collected myself. It's a humbling feeling to realize that your brothers are smarter than you even when you have two lives-worth of experience.

"But if it happens, we know that Harry will survive", Fred continued. "and we'll use the map to make sure those two and Ron don't end up where they're not supposed to be".

It sounds like the perfect plan. But there is still one piece to consider. "What about Quirrell?" I asked. "He'll have to be discovered somehow. Just to make sure we aren't sharing the school with You-Know-Who next year". Of course, next year we will be dealing with a manifestation of You-know-who's soul and a giant snake. But it would still be worse if we had to watch out for the basilisk and Quirrell.

There's a small moment of silence as we contemplate what to do. None of us wanted to sit through another year of DADA with Quirrell. Personally, I was looking forward to Quirrell's demise so I can stop wearing that pink Sherlock Holmes hat. "What if we try to expose him like we did with Scabbers?" George proposed.

"All we'd have to do is remove his turban". Fred said.

"In a place where people will see" I concluded. "But it will have to be in front of the staff. Preferably more than just one teacher. We don't know what Quirrell and You-know-who will do if they are discovered".

"But that will stop Quirrell from coming back next year". George said.

"And we have to make it look like we were not involved this time", Fred reasoned. "It's fun being the 'Wonder Weasleys', but if we get a reputation for exposing hidden dark wizards people are going to start to suspect us".

George and I nodded along. None of us wanted others to know about the Harry Potter series as Jessie remembers them. Then we really would lose our advantage and the future would be lost to us forever. Just like everyone else.

"So, we either need to make sure that whatever we do can't be traced back to us. Or we need to convince someone else to reveal Quirrell for us". I said, running through all of the people I know in my head. Could we send Dumbledore or Snape an anonymous note saying to look under Quirrell's turban? "Lee would probably due it if we asked". I said after I ran out of faces.

George gives me a blank look as Fred nudges my back with his foot. "We're not using our best friend to get rid of You-know-who".

I shrug but blush a little. It's a good point. I wouldn't be willing to use Angelina or Alicia either. "We'll figure something out," Fred said. "We got time. At least, now we actually have a plan".

That night, the rest of the student body returned to Hogwarts. The five tables were back in the great hall and I had officially moved back to the third-year girls' dorm. After I made Fred and George swear that they wouldn't tell Lee that I had been using his bed. There are some adolescent boy jokes that I just can't stomach. The end of winter break meant no more visits from Sirius Black. Ron had Harry for himself again, only having to share him with Hermione. But based on how much time that girl spends in the library, I know that that won't be an issue. It also meant that Fred, George, and I had to get our new plan figured out. Preferably before Quirrell tried for the stone. But as I packed my bookbag for classes the next day, I didn't feel stressed about it. If anything, I felt equipped to handle whatever was ahead. After all, I already faced death once. It couldn't get much worse than that.

* * *

After the seizure on the first day of school, I thought there would be no more mind attacks from Quirrell's guest. Of course, Fred, George, and I have our hideous hats, so we'd be unaware and protected if it happened again. But I also thought that You-know-who wouldn't try to attack me again even if the hats didn't work. It wouldn't due to be found out before he had the stone. However, the hats were now more important than ever. Especially for Fred and George. While Jessie somewhat protected me from having You-know-who being able to understand my mind, Fred and George could not say the same. Without the hats, You-know-who could know that we were planning to spoil his plan. And he definitively had the power to get rid of us before we could get rid of him. So, that first DADA class of the new term, we entered the classroom with caution after double-checking that our hats were securely in place. Though, with a taste of ironic predictability, Quirrell's guest did target minds, or a mind, again on the first day of classes of the new term.

Sitting at the desk I share with George; I have just enough time to flash Pucey a smile before Quirrell starts stuttering about werewolves. Pucey inclines his head before looking forward. We hadn't gotten a chance to talk since he came back from break. And I know he would want to talk with all that 'Wonder Weasley' nonsense floating around. Even more so when he learns that I actually met Regulus' brother in person. Needless to say, I know what we would be talking about in potions class… Well, what we would have talked about if the assault hadn't happened.

At first, I was unaware that anything was happening. Not until I felt eyes on me. Looking up from my notes, I expected it to be Fred or George wanting me to pass a message. But the eyes were from across the room. It didn't take me long to find who was staring. Pucey was looking at me without blinking, turned around in his seat. His gray eyes were focused, but questioning. The kind of look people adopted when they see someone they feel like they should know, but can't remember their name. Slowly, I lay my quill flat on the desktop and peer back at him. Why would Pucey stare at me like that? He's not the type to be so blatant about where his attention is. And he never turns around like that while class is in session.

"Now, W-werewolves are not the s-same as ani-animagi" Quirrell stuttered. Seemingly unaware that two of his students weren't paying attention. Though his voice seems to snap Pucey out of whatever daze he was in. with a firm shake of his head, Pucey faces forward with Stimpson leaning over, probably to ask if he's okay. Pucey doesn't respond to her. From my seat in the book of the room, I can see how tense his back muscles are from under his robes. What was that about? Minutes passed with class going undisturbed. But I couldn't return my attention to note-taking. I wasn't the only one. Pucey had taken up a hunched over position. His elbows rested on the desktop. Both of his hands clenched either side of his head, covering his ears. It looked like he was shaking. "W-werewolves are only in t-there wolf f-form from moo-moonrise to moonset", Quirrell goes on to say.

Stimpson from her spot next to Pucey placed a well-intentioned hand on his shoulder. I couldn't hear her from where I was in the back of the room, but I can only imagine that it was an inquiry about his welfare. Pucey shrugs her off without shifting out of his current position. Did he just have a very bad migraine? But I knew the moment after I thought it, that this wasn't a migraine. His body language was far too dramatic for this to be just a migraine.

"Th-there is a way to s-s-subdue a werewolf" Quirrell starts to say. Though he doesn't get the chance to tell us how to subdue a werewolf.

Like a snapped firecracker, Pucey shoots up out of his seat. With one hand still clutching his head, his wand hand pulls his wand from his pocket. "Get out of my head!" Pucey bellowed as he pointed his wand at Quirrell. The very tip of it lights up orange like it would fire the moment a spell left Pucey's lips. Fred drops his quill and looks over to George and me in urgency. As if checking that we were seeing the same things that he was. At the same time, George scoots closer to my side so that our shoulders are touching in our shared desk. There's no way! Does Pucey know that Quirrell is more than meets the eye? Pucey doesn't keep his wand trailed on Quirrell for long.

"M-m-Mr. P-pucey!" Quirrell stammers as Pucey turns and points his wand at the rest of the class.

"Whoever it is, get out of my head now!" When Pucey has turned around enough for me to see his face, I stand up. Running down Pucey's right nostril is a thin stream of blood.

George connected the dots faster than I did. "He's going to have a fit", George said as he stood up as well. It's unclear if George would have done anything to aid Pucey. It's unclear if I would have done anything. There wasn't any time.

At the same moment, Pucey collapses. He falls face forward, smacking his head on the desk behind his own before he drops to the floor. His body convulses. His whole-body mimics what a fish out of water looks like when it flops around on the ground. Stimpson stands up and screams. As if she was the one being attacked.

I was stuck, frozen in place, as I watched Pucey suffer. Should I do anything? What are you supposed to do in this situation? What did Fred and George do when it was me seizing? "Professor! Do Something!" Stimpson wailed, crocodile tears falling down her face.

But all Quirrell did was make the /b/ sound on repeat. Vaguely, I wondered if it was because he was just as shell-shocked as the rest of us, or if he couldn't do anything because of You-know-who. Since they share a body, would Quirrell know if or when You-know-who used magic? Are they sharing a magical core or do they each have their own?

"I'm going to go get Pomfrey" Fred spoke up from the desk he shared with Lee, who looked to be stiff with shock. He had his mouth hanging open as if his jaw stopped working. Fred didn't wait for our acknowledgment before he was running out of the door.

Pucey didn't seize long. Thirty to forty-five seconds at the most. But it felt like ages. When he was done, Pucey's limbs stilled, and it looked like he could just be asleep. If only that was the case.


	21. An Ally, Of Sorts

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

An Ally, Of Sorts

Do you know those old Victorian sculptures, the ones that are just of the head and shoulders? There's usually a set, some dignified lady with her nose refined to a point, and her husband who looked incapable of smiling. Well, that's what Pucey's parents resemble. Hovering outside with one of the double doors to the hospital wing cracked open, I peek inside. It's the lunch hour, and the first chance I got to visit with Pucey after his collapse. I wanted answers. How did he know there was someone in his mind? Did he think whoever it was, was able to make out some of his memories? And most importantly, was he okay?

But I wasn't expecting Pucey's parents to be at his bedside. Not sure why. After all, my mum was summoned when it happened to me. It wasn't just the Puceys in the infirmary, however. Dumbledore stood at the foot of Pucey's bed. Just as he had done with mine. There was a difference between my experience and Pucey's. His parents were responding quite differently than my mum had. "This is unacceptable", Mrs. Pucey said with consternation dripping from every syllable. She was sitting in a straight back chair on Pucey's left. Her husband stood behind her with one hand gripping the back of the chair. Both of them were dressed in matching gray and black robes. Mrs. Pucey's being just a little different to promote more feminine attributes. It was something that I would expect to see on a stage rather than in person.

"It is distressing" Dumbledore tries to placate. "And we are looking into it. But I think it's important that we discuss the implications of your son's response to the attack". Dumbledore said very calmly.

But the Puceys don't like this change in topic. "We know about Adrian's past life. What we want to focus on is why he was attacked in the first place". Mr. Pucey spoke sternly, and with complete conviction.

"We are looking into it". Dumbledore tries again.

"Have you been looking into it since it happened to Weasley?" The youngest Pucey asked, sounding a bit sardonic.

"Weasley?" Mr. Pucey questioned before Dumbledore could try to explain. But seriously, how much does Dumbledore actually know?

Adrian doesn't answer his father. His mother beats him to it. "The eldest Weasley girl". His mother said, primly looking over her shoulder at her husband. "You remember, Marcellus. The girl Adrian suspected of being like him. She collapsed from a similar attack at the start of the school year, proving Adrian's hypothesis correct. Surely, you recall your son's letter of the subject"… So, Pucey talks about me with his parents?

Mr. Pucey coughs to clear his throat. As if that would excuse his lapse in memory. "That only makes this incident direr". Mr. Pucey saved himself as he turned back to Dumbledore. "Two students under your care were assaulted by a legilimens". Mr. Pucey raised his voice, expressing parental offense. "Strange too, that both of the children were attacked possess past lives". Mr. Pucey narrowed his eyes, accusingly. I'd hate to ever be on the receiving end of that look. Or to play Mr. Pucey in poker.

"No dear", Mrs. Pucey interjects, voice even. "It's far worse. He doesn't know how many students' minds have been broken into. Since those without past lives would have no defense what so ever".

"And then there's the coincidence that it happened to both Weasley and myself during defense class. A class that we share", Adrian contributes.

Wow, I can't believe they're ganging up on Dumbledore. The Puceys sure do have some balls. "And yet there's been no formal investigation", Mrs. Pucey concluded, narrowing her eyes as she waited for the headmaster's response.

But Dumbledore appeared to be unaffected. "We are looking into it", he repeated with a smile that only seemed to infuriate Pucey's parents. "But I won't keep you with the details. Not when it seems, that young Adrian has a visitor". Dumbledore calmly angled himself to include the door I'm hiding behind in his field of vision. I tensed up. How? "You can come in now, Miss Weasley. No need to be shy". Dumbledore called out to me, using me as an exit strategy to get away from the Puceys.

Caught red-handed, I chuckled nervously as I pushed the door all the way open. But I don't go past the doorway. "I promise," I said to the occupants of the room. "I just got here". I tried to display a state of innocence. Don't know why. There's no fooling Slytherins or Dumbledore.

Pucey exaggeratedly rolls his eyes at me, as if he is embarrassed on my behalf but not surprised. And I am reminded of our ill-fated Hogsmeade trip where he knew that I had been eavesdropping on him and Stimpson. He's going to think that I have no manners at this rate. Mrs. Pucey seemed to share her son's bemusement at my appearance. I wondered if I was living up to everything Pucey had told her about me. Mr. Pucey, however, looked like he had just swallowed an impressively large pill. "Young Lady," he said, highly disapproving. "We are having a private discussion. I'm sure you can come back later to have whatever is ailing you cured". He sounds like a charm school instructor. What do the Puceys do for a living? I don't think Pucey has ever said.

"Father", Pucey broke in, looking in his father's direction from the hospital bed. "This is Weasley. Judging by her awkwardness, she's here to see me". He explained, reading me like one reads a technical manual. Am I really that obvious?

Mr. Pucey looked down at his son, his aged brow wrinkled in question. "Your Weasley?" He asked. Say what now? And why do I get the feeling that Mr. Pucey isn't really keeping up with this conversation?

Pucey blushed. It was nice to see some color return to his skin. Hell, it was nice to see him react with more than his usual range of emotions. His mother tucks her chin down in an attempt to hide a small quirk of her lips. "Yes dear," She answered before her son could retort. "The other victim". She stayed clear of the term Mr. Pucey had coined.

Mr. Pucey's face softens as his eyes widen in understanding. "Aw," He said, looking back at me. "Never mind then, Young lady. Please come in. I would like to talk to you".

"Um,", I said shifting my weight from foot to foot. I was planning on interrogating Pucey for everything he knows. I wasn't planning on getting questioned myself. And definitively not by Pucey's parents.

"I am not sure it would be permissible of me to let you talk to Miss Weasley about her ordeal without her parents' consent". Dumbledore said, reminding everyone that he was still here.

Mr. Pucey is not one to back down, however. "Who are her parents?" he demanded to know. "I have no qualm in owling them for their permission".

"Nonsense," Mrs. Pucey said loudly, speaking over anyone else's attempt to put their two cents in. "You're here to see Adrian, yes?" She said directly to me, before looking at Dumbledore. "If she's here for Adrian then there is no harm in us talking to a child our son is friends with". She said in her best mother's voice. The type of voice that demands compliance.

"You know. It sounds like you are busy", I said, angling my shoulders so it would be short work of walking away. "I can come back later" I trailed off, making for a way out of the power struggle that was happening between Dumbledore and Pucey's parents.

However, one suffering sigh and stern, "Weasley" from Pucey had me scurrying over to his bedside. I stood on the right side, opposite of his parents and refusing to look at Dumbledore. From one Gryffindor to another, it probably looked like the Slytherin had me trained. But I can't help it. When Pucey uses that voice I just respond. I don't know why.

Mr. Pucey Turns his inquiring gaze to his son. As if his face held the explanation to that whole exchange. But his son was refusing to look at him, instead, he was staring steadfastly at the blue hospital wing blanket draped over his legs. Mrs. Pucey, on the other hand, was studying me with a smirking twitch of her upper left lips. She has the same eyes as her son. "You are friends with Adrian?" She asked, her tone a lot softer than it was when she was talking with Dumbledore.

"Um, yea," I said, but it comes out sounding like a question. Feeling like a spaz, I dry my shaking sweaty hands on my robes and hoped that no one saw. I'm not sure why I am so nervous. It's not like I haven't talked to adults before. I mean, I used to be an adult. "I mean, yes ma'am". I said in an attempt to redeem myself.

Mrs. Pucey turns her head to look at her son. "Adrian," she said and waited until he was making eye contact with her. There was a scowl on his face, that Mrs. Pucey seemed to take with amusement. "Do you consider Miss Weasley to be a friend?"

Pucey's voice is dry as he responded. Probably unhappy about the path this interaction has taken. "Yes, mother," he said a bit forcefully. If I had said that to my mum, I'd find myself on a receiving end of a heated lecture about proper respect. Mrs. Pucey, however; merely smiled at her son. After Pucey gets through giving his mum a hard look, he flashes his eyes in my direction. "On most days", he tacked on.

I give him a shrug with my hands open at my sides. Indicating that I had no reason to suspect why we weren't friends every day. But if I had to take a guess, I bet those reasons are named Fred and George. "And do you always call Miss Weasley by her last name?" Mrs. Pucey asked, not done with her line of questioning.

Pucey narrowed his grey eyes at his mother. "Yes," he answered. "I thought it would be rude to refer to her as 'hey you'". If he could sound more sarcastic than he already does, I would think that Pucey had switched bodies with Snape.

His mother gifts him with a pointed look, but she chooses to not engage with his comment. Clearly, she has an agenda, and she intends to stick to it. "And you, Miss Weasley", Mrs. Pucey said as she returned her attention to me. "What do you call my son?"

"Pucey" I answered quickly. Glad that it was a question that I knew the answer to. "On most days", I added, copying Pucey's line. I look at him with a retorting expression.

Mrs. Pucey hummed. "I find it funny that two friends don't refer to each other by their given names." Mrs. Pucey looks back at her son with an all-knowing smile. "Do you know Miss Weasley's first name?"

Pucey was practically grinding his teeth as his father and Dumbledore observed this exchange. One with perplexity while the other was unreadable. "Yes, I do," Pucey said honestly.

"Excellent" His mother declared. "Then you both will have no problem in the future of referring to each other in more casual terms". She seems pleased with herself.

"I'm sorry," I said after spending a moment of swimming out of confusion. "What does this have to do with what happened in class this morning?"

Mr. Pucey clears his throat; reminded of why he had called me over in the first place. It seemed that his agenda was quite different from his wife's. "Quite right, young lady". He said, squaring his shoulders. "What happened when it happened to you?"

It took me a couple of minutes to figure out what Mr. Pucey was asking about. What a poorly worded question. Clearly, he isn't a public speaker then. "Um," I said flashing my eyes in Dumbledore's direction. Am I really supposed to answer that? But Dumbledore doesn't step up. As if he had already forgotten his previous comment about needing Mum's and Dad's permission before the Puceys could talk to me. So, I look back at the elder Puceys. "It was the start of class," I said very slowly, giving them ample time to correct me in case I wasn't answering Mr. Pucey's question correctly. But no one did, so I continued. "Everything was fine until it wasn't". I said, sounding very unsure. Pucey snorted at my efforts, but his mother placing a manicured hand on his covered knee quieted him. I need to learn how to do that. "It was like I forgot who I was. Or rather, I remembered who I used to be and completely forgot who I was currently". Using the corner of my eyes, I glance at Pucey. He nods his head as if to say, 'same'. "But it kept flashing in and out of perspective". I shake my head as I forced myself to recall. "The last thing I remembered was my brother telling me my nose was bleeding before blacking out". It felt weird to describe all of that. When I had talked to my own family about the incident they were more interested in their discovery of Jessie rather than the details of the attack.

I am pulled out of my thoughts by a follow-up question. "You didn't know what was happening?" Mr. Pucey asked.

"No, sir". I shake my head. "I wasn't like your son. I didn't know someone was trying to invade my mind".

Dumbledore decides this would be a good moment to reinsert himself into the conversation. "That does bring up an interesting point". He said using a serene voice that Mr. Pucey immediately bristled at. "How were you able to sense the attack, Adrian?"

Dumbledore directed his inquiry at Pucey, but it was his mother who answered. She waved a hand at Dumbledore as if it was a silly question. "Of course, once Adrian informed us of his past life when he was three, we recognized the potential dangers that he may encounter. So, we started him on meditation and other exercises to clear his mind to help him build up resistance to mental assaults. When he was a little older, we found a trusted family friend to instruct him in occlumency." Her answer is very put together. But it sounds rehearsed to me. Why would you lie about getting your son occlumency lessons? It sounds like something well-off pureblood families would do, past life besides.

"Did you really tell them about your past life when you were three?" I asked, trying to subtly dig deeper.

Pucey gives me a half shrug, but his mother answered for him again. I'm starting to see a trend. "He wanted to avoid having to relearn things a second time around as much as possible." Mrs. Pucey said, a proud, genuine smile blossoming on her face and lifting up her cheeks. "Marcellus and I weren't surprised".

"No", Mr. Pucey agreed. "Our boy was always ahead of where he should be developmentally". He clapped Pucey on his shoulder, seemingly unaware of Pucey's hunching shoulders as he tried to look smaller and smaller so people would stop paying attention to him. Heh, the woes of an only child. I'm assuming. I don't actually know if he has any siblings. "Though", Mr. Pucey adds on as he turns the conversation. "Given Adrian's education in Occlumency, it must have been a skilled legilimens. Not another student". He said all of this while staring Dumbledore down, demanding action with his eyes.

"Yes," Mrs. Pucey agreed as she shifted in her chair in order to stand up. "Shall we retire to your office to discuss exactly who you should be investigating and what you will be doing for now on to keep our son safe?" She phrased it as a question, but as she was speaking Mrs. Pucey was already walking to the exit. "The children can stay here and talk. I'm sure they rather socialize without the presence of adults". She said over her shoulder, giving Pucey a conspiring look that he was refusing to return. This gives Mr. Pucey time to catch up with his wife. But not after he assured Pucey that they would see him again before returning home.

"I promise", Dumbledore said as he trailed after the couple. "We are looking into it".

That was the last thing Pucey and I heard from the adults as they left the hospital wing. We stared at their backs as we watched them go. I waited for the door; the same one I had entered through to close behind them before turning to Pucey. "So, how long have I been 'your Weasley?'" I asked because that has really been bugging me since his dad first said it.

The deadpanned look I get in response tells me that I should have kept my mouth shut.

* * *

Pucey, being who he is, wastes no time to get straight to business. "What do you know?" He asked directly as he adjusted himself into a better sitting position.

"I came here to ask you what you know". I retorted. Frankly, I was done being interrogated for the day. It was his turn. "Do you think whoever it was figured out who you were in your past life?" Because that's the big issue. Of course, I know who is breaking into students' minds. And if You-know-who knew that Regulus Black, a follower that betrayed him, was reincarnated as one of Quirrell's students it could only mean hardship for Pucey. Albeit, hardship that will most likely not take place until You-know-who revives. But either way, it's bad news.

Pucey narrowed his eyes at me but complies. Though I wondered, for how long. "Maybe", he said, sounding very tense. "It's like my mother said. I do know occlumency, so only someone stronger than me could have entered my mind. Meaning, that in my current state it was probably an adult. Since my magical core isn't the same as it was when I was in my old fully-grown body". Makes sense. "I was able to push the intruder back most of the time, but a few old memories slipped through my defenses.". Pucey breaks eye contact with me in favor of staring down at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them. "If the intruder managed to make sense of my memories, he would have seen the inside of the Black house, and the night I… Regulus received the dark mark".

A moment of silence takes place between us as we both contemplate what that means, but for different reasons. To Pucey, I can only imagine, that he was afraid. Possibly, someone out there he didn't want knowing, knew the big bad secret of his past life. While I was thinking about what You-know-who would do if he got his hands on a traitor. Reincarnated or otherwise. I suspect that neither thought was pleasant. "How do you know Occlumency?" I asked, filling obligated to change the subject to keep the room from becoming too depressing.

Pucey sighs as he tears his gaze away from his hands. "It's as my mother said. After I told them about my past life, they started to coach me on ways I could protect myself. Though, since Regulus was harboring information from the dark lord, I also had some knowledge on Occlumency that I carried over from my past life" Pucey admitted. He shakes his head once, all most as if in disbelief. "I would have been fine too". He complained. "No one would have gotten past my shields if I hadn't been distracted, and if this body wasn't this young".

"Distracted?" I asked, wrinkling my forehead. I don't think I've ever seen Pucey distracted. Pucey distracted does not compute. I have no knowledge of such an event ever occurring.

"About Sirus being set free", Pucey said, voice growing soft and tentative as he said Regulus' brother's name. "Can we talk about that some other time?" Pucey asked me a moment later, with the usual hard edge back in his tone. I nod my assent. I wouldn't expect anything less. Seeing my agreement, Pucey adds on. "That's how the bastard much have slipped in". He almost sounds like a petulant child.

"So, you don't know who did it?" I asked, getting back on track.

I am leveled with a hard look. "Do you know?" Pucey asked. At the shake of my head, he responded with, "Then why would I know?" Well, there's no reason to get snippy with me. But I am not deterred. I do have six brothers after all. "My father thinks it must be Quirrell", Pucey moved on. "And I have to agree with him. Quirrell was the only adult in the room at the time. None of our classmates should have the ability to effectively use legilimency. If any of them can use it all.".

Walking around Pucey's Hospital bed, I sit down in the chair that Mrs. Pucey had been sitting in before she left. "But other than suspicion and likelihood, we have no proof". I said, trying to contribute but not wanting to spill the beans about Quirrell. If I did that, I would have to explain how I know. And... well, that's one road I am not ready to travel down with Pucey.

"And Dumbledore doesn't seem to want to investigate". Pucey said as he stared straight ahead. He's completely focused on the thoughts swirling in his noggin. This is some intense Slytherin brainstorming going on right here. "If it had been just me, I would have accused him of being biased against Slytherins. But since it happened to you, a Gryffindor, it has to be something else. That or the old cote is just ready for retirement". Pucey said with an annoyed scoff. But he seemed to have steeled himself. Somehow, in the short amount of time he had been in the hospital wing, Adrian had found resolve. "I want to find out who it was. I want to prove that it was Quirrell. If I do that, maybe I can request for the aurors to wipe his memories once he's charged. Past lives are highly private after all. The court would recognize that", Pucey muttered to himself, before turning to me. "Will you help me? You and your psychopathic brothers?"

Shocked, I just stare at the third-year Slytherin with my mouth slightly gapped. "You want to work with Fred and George?" I asked very slowly.

Pucey adopts an uncomfortable frown. "It pains me to admit it. But your brothers are tricky enough that I think they'll be better at discovering the truth than me. Besides, don't you three want to know who attacked you?"

I stutter a little but end up saying "yes". It's not like I can tell him we already know who made me have a fit all those months ago.

Pucey gives me a small satisfied nod. "We have mutual ground in this endeavor". He said, and suddenly I could see the similarities between him and his father. "You'll speak to them for me?"

With a circular nod, I agreed. This alliance might actually work to our advantage. Though I didn't like the thought of using Pucey for an ulterior motive. But he was practically volunteering! "They might make you wear a hat like this", I said, pointing up at the pink Sherlock Holmes hat sitting on top of my head.

Pucey gives it a long look as if it repulsed him. "If they try, I'll burn it".


	22. Gryffindor Vs. Hufflepuff

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff

Obviously, with Pucey now an ally, we had a lot of planning to do. Or rather, Fred, George, and I had a lot of planning to do to get Pucey to expose Quirrell without it being traced back to us. However, that would all have to take a back seat until after the Hufflepuff Vs. Gryffindor quidditch match. It's pointless to plot when your comrades are boys and there's a sporting event taking place. They won't be capable of paying attention. Especially since if Gryffindor wins this match, we would pull ahead of Slytherin in house points. Of course, Fred and George are on the Gryffindor quidditch team, so they couldn't use this time to plot anyway.

I also, couldn't hold Pucey's inattention against him either. Not when this was not a usual game. Snape was refereeing, although I know it's a secret ploy to protect Harry from any more jinxes. Even more strange was the additional viewer sitting in the staff stands. It wasn't odd for students' parents to come and watch them play if they were on their house teams. But this legal guardian was Sirius Black. And the recently freed man's presence was causing a stir. Especially for Pucey. Unlike every other student watching the game, his eyes weren't on Snape giving the Gryffindor's another foul. His gray gaze was fixed squarely on the gaunt but smiling person sitting between McGonagall and Jordan, who was commentating. "He looks thin" Pucey muttered to himself. "Regulus has no memories of him ever looking that thin".

I turn my head to look at my fellow third-year, pulling my attention away from Ron who was sitting in the front row with Granger. Only one row in front of us. My brother was getting more and more distraught every time Snape called a foul on Gryffindor. But I felt more empathy with Pucey's comment than I did with my little brother's sports anguish. "He's been locked away for a long time". I reminded him. "He's not going to be in fit-form right away". Pucey still can't bring himself to tear his gaze from the stands.

"I know", he muttered. But he was unsatisfied. And I was suddenly grateful that I wouldn't have to run into anyone from Jessie's life.

"Black will probably eat at the Gryffindor table with Potter after the match", I said softly. That is if he doesn't demand to take Harry off campus to eat. Though, based on what I've overheard from Ron and Harry, Dumbledore wasn't too keen on Harry leaving school grounds. "I could introduce you two". I offered.

That got Pucey to look away from the staff seating. Since we are sitting shoulder to shoulder, I have to tilt my head back and he has to tuck his chin down for us to make eye contact. Something indistinguishable flashes in his grey pupils. But it's gone faster than it came. "I", he starts to say but seems to think better of it. "Thank you", he finalized on after clearing his head. "But the Pucey's have nothing to do with the Blacks". As he spoke a chilled wind blew across the pitch, causing me to hunch up my shoulders to protect my neck as I shivered. "You'd have no reason to introduce us, and therefore it would be impolite". Pucey finished his explanation, sounding regrettable. Though, after he takes note of my shivering, his tone changes to one of exasperation. "Why did you come out here without a scarf or gloves?" He asked, scolding as he reached up and started to unwind his green and silver scarf from around his neck.

I don't answer him. I have a question of my own. "Is it some sort of stupid pureblood rule that I can't introduce you to Black?"

Once Pucey had completely removed his scarf, his eyes hardened at my question, and he glared at me. "It's not a rule. It's etiquette". He sounded personally offended. And I suppose I shouldn't call other people's cultures stupid. "And you're a Weasley", he pointed out as he reached over my shoulders and started to wind his scarf around my bare neck. "A member of the sacred twenty-eight". He ended his point when he finished bundling me up like one would with a stubborn child. The smells of mint and pine filled my olfactory receptors. I shivered once more as my body accepted the second-hand heat. This made it almost worth forgetting my scarf this morning.

"You say that as if it actually means something", I said as Pucey retracted his hands. Growing up, I had heard the phrase, sacred twenty-eight, before. But in the Burrow, it didn't mean anything, and us Weasleys didn't care for social niceties. It's hard to care about such a thing when we live in close quarters.

Pucey sighed and bowed his head. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he said more to himself than me, "Mother was right. You are going to be a full-time job".

Did I hear that right? "Come again?" I asked, placing an edge in my voice. I slide closer to Pucey so that his shoulder was pressed against the very end of my collar bone. I got my face close to his to apply pressure. Personally, I don't know what he meant by that comment. But a part of me feels like I should take offense.

Releasing his nose, but keeping his head bowed, Pucey peers down at me. His expression is one of competitive intrigue. Pucey now knew something that I didn't. He was motivated by keeping it from me, but also curious about how far I would go to get it out of him. "Don't worry about it", he said with a smirk. If we were any closer, the tips of our noses would be touching. "It will make more sense to you in the future".

I wrinkled my nose and squinted my eyes as I studied the boy with great scrutiny. What, in Merlin's name, did that mean? But I wasn't afforded the chance to continue our game. Not with the loud exclamation of "Gross!" pulling our attention away from each other.

Almost as if we had forgotten that we were in a public place, Pucey and I swivel our heads to look at the row in front of us. Both Ron and Hermione had turned around in their seats. Why? I have no idea. Maybe Snape's refereeing skills finally became too much for them and they needed to look away. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, both of the first-years were staring at Pucey and me with different expressions on their faces. Ron looked like he was about to have an aneurism, with his face pained and upper lip curled up in disgust. While Hermione was blushing so red that she was matching Ron's hair. She seemed to be unsure if it was okay to be looking at Pucey and me, but unable to quite look away, as she kept glancing back and forth at us and her shoes. "What?" I asked, befuddled by the dramatics of my little brother. What could I have possibly done to deserve such a response at a quidditch game? As I stared Ron down, Pucey discretely put distance between my face and his. Although, our shoulders remained pressed together. I could feel him shaking. But I was unsure if it was because I have his scarf, or because of something else.

"Do you have to kiss where everyone can see?" Ron asked in response to my inquiry. He said the word kiss as if it was the mother of all profanities. I gapped at him, as words escaped me. What would have given him the impression that Pucey and I were kissing? I, as in Holly, haven't even had my first kiss yet. I was only thirteen, for Merlin's sake. Ron takes my lack of a rebuttal as permission to continue. "If Mum and Dad knew you were snogging a bloke in public-" Ron started to say, playing the parent card.

But I found my tongue and interrupted him. "I would assume they would prefer it to making-out in a broom closet", I said in a matter-of-fact way, using the American version of the word snogging. What can I say? In some ways, Jessie is still alive and well.

"Weasley" Pucey scolded short and sharply in a low growl. I had probably just broken another pureblood etiquette rule.

But I ignored him in favor of staring down my brother, who was now blushing hard enough to match Hermione's flushed cheeks. "Ron" Hermione whispered to my brother, although Pucey and I can clearly hear her. "I think we're intruding on a personal moment". She said it like she had walked in on something taboo. And I suppose, with Pucey being a Slytherin he is, in a way, taboo.

Ron practically sputters as he responds to Hermione. "They're in public! There's nothing to intrude on". He waves his hands at us as if that would prove his point.

"Your right, Ron" I agreed, trying not to snicker in an effort to keep my straight face. "There is nothing to intrude on". I placed emphasis on the word 'is'. After all, we really hadn't been kissing.

Ron purses his lips, but he isn't silenced for long. "And he's a Slytherin" He digressed, sounding personally offended. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the comment but held her tongue on that one. It seemed, that even as a first-year, she was picking up on the discrimination facing her from a common Slytherin viewpoint.

I shrug and wave my hands as if to say, 'what would you do?' "What? Would it be better if I was kissing Lee?"

"Weasley!" Pucey admonished again. I can feel his eyes boring into me as he sends me his displeasure. But it has no effect. If anything, it just makes the urge to laugh grow. I refuse to apologize for being myself.

Hermione had decided the best course of action was to not look at anyone. Not at Pucey's irritation, or my amusement, or Ron's revulsion. Instead, she slowly turns back around to watch the game. Leaving Ron to processes his feelings in front of us third-years. Ron seemed to be oscillating between the need to agree that anyone would be better than a Slytherin, and to the repulsiveness of his sister kissing anyone at all. I was grateful that I was born two years older than Ron. I don't think I could put up with Ron's attempt at protectiveness if I was Ginny's age. I should probably intervene before he actually hurts himself from thinking so hard. Though, Hermione gasps. Reaching back, she starts tugging on Ron's cloak until my brother feels compelled to turn around. "Harry's seen the snitch!" She declared, drawing all or our attention to the sight of a lithe figuring flying in the midst of a dive, hurtling towards the ground. Silence engulfs us as we watch the first-year seeker catch the golden snitch. It isn't as dramatic as his first game; meaning that he actually caught the ball with his hand this time. But the game is still one for the records. "Potter as caught the Snitch, Gryffindor wins!" Lee's voice booms across the pitch as most of the spectators celebrate. The Hufflepuff Vs. Gryffindor game lasted a total of five minutes; preventing Snape from giving Gryffindor any more unjust fouls. The funny thing is, I think I only watched about a minute of the game, having spent the other four minutes talking to Pucey.

* * *

Unfortunately, Ron hadn't been the only student in the stands to notice how close Pucey and I had gotten during our discussion and had also misinterpreted it. Though, I wouldn't know this until the next day, Sunday. Fred and George had crashed from their quidditch high the day before, so we had a bit of a lazy start, as Dad would have described it. At noon, we ended up lounging in the damp grass by the lake. The sunlight flickered as clouds flew by. They were white clouds, so we weren't worried about being rained on. Fred lay sprawled on his back with his arms spread out wide. His eyes were closed, and he was lightly snoring as George and I quietly conversed next to him. We weren't talking about anything of importance. It is Sunday after all, the best day to let the mind rest. Instead, George sat cross-legged with his back hunched as he constructed a little house out of twigs and blades of grass. I was lying on my stomach, with my legs bent behind me. I watched what he was doing as we talked about specific dishes that Mum made that we were missing. I was craving Mum's cauldron stew. While George was missing Mum's roasted chicken with rosemary. Us Weasleys weren't spoiled when it came to material possessions, but we were very spoiled when it came to the quality of our food.

We had decided to forgo school uniforms today. Luckily, they are not required on the weekends. I had on a pair of jeans for a second-hand shop, a plain black T-shirt I had nicked from one of my brothers (though I couldn't remember who), and had one of Bill's old button-up plaid shirts tied around my waist in case it got cold. Considering that we are lying in the slightly wet grass, I'd probably have to wear the button-up properly pretty soon. George and Fred had each chosen to don on their Christmas sweaters over a cotton shirt and paired it with a pair of Jeans that they had gotten from Charlie. Except Fred was wearing George's sweater and George was wearing Fred's sweater. Gred and Forge decided to make a reappearance today. The population of Hogwarts had been none the wiser. Except for Lee and I, who simply knew better. All three of us wore our Sherlock Holmes hats. It wouldn't do to be caught unawares. "Remember that time when mom tried to make eggplant parmesan?" George asked as he tried to fix the little grass roof of his house. He was recalling the one-time Mum had tried to make something that turned out to be terrible. The eggplant parmesan recipe had come from a muggle magazine Dad had brought home. As such, the directions weren't written for magic users and Mum had used too much salt.

Though, I didn't get a chance to respond. A loud disruption drew our attention away from our conversation and up the hill, a ways away was a group of first-year Slytherins was surrounding two familiar third-year Slytherins; Pucey and Stimpson. It wasn't Pucey or the first-years making a fuss, but Stimpson, unsurprisingly. She was standing with her back hunched as she sobbed into her hands. We were not able to make out what she was saying, but we could hear her wailing. If it were anyone other than Stimpson I would assume that they had just received news that there had been a loss in the family. However, this was Stimpson. I think she is more capable of grieving a broken nail than the loss of life. George and I exchanged one look as if asking each other, 'are you seeing this?' But we quickly looked back to the scene that was playing out. We'd have to wake Fred if things got more interesting. Pucey was standing next to Stimpson's left shoulder. Despite being so close to a wailing banshee, he wasn't backing away from her or even looking at her. Instead, he was biting his lip, staring down the first-year in the center with clenched fists. Indicating that the first-years are probably the instigators. Three guesses to who these first-years are. "Isn't that Malfoy? From Ron's year?" George whispered; his little house forgotten.

I nod in response, to engaged with the scene to answer verbally. It is odd for a first-year to talk with a third-year. I mean, we only talk to Ron and his friends because Ron is related to us. Outside of sibling connections, there's not much of a reason for upperclassmen to talk to the first-years. Maybe this is another quirk to Slytherin house? Though, based off of Stimpson, It's probably something more. The first-years, with Crabbe on the left, Malfoy in the middle, and Goyle on the right stood in front of our classmates with their arms folded across their chests. Their backs are to us, but I can't help but get the impression at Malfoy is a bit too pleased with himself. "So, what are you going to do Pucey?" Malfoy said, raising his voice in order to be heard over Stimpson's crying. "Such relations can't be good for your family's business". What did Pucey's family do for a living? It is something that has never come up in conversation before. "My family is your largest account, right?" Malfoy goes on to ask, not giving Pucey time to retort. "What will your father say if we have to end our business with the Pucey's due to their son having less than satisfactory friendships with the wrong sort".

Half of me wonder who the wrong sort is. While the other half of me already knows. "Careful, Malfoy", Pucey growls; also talking louder than normal in order to be heard over the distraught Stimpson. Someone should really get that girl on a regular prescription of calming draught. "Given the nature of my father's products, I wouldn't recommend commenting so openly that your family are regular customers". There's a dangerous lithe in Pucey's voice that has me flinching and George tensing even though we are a good distance away.

His voice has an immediate effect on Malfoy. The blonde boy steps back before he can restrain himself, uncrossing his arms in the process. Whatever Pucey's family business is, it sounds like it might not be the most humanitarian-friendly of professions. But Malfoy recovers quickly. The signs of a boy who has never known humility and desperately needs to. "It isn't like it's a secret," Malfoy said, placing his hands on his hips as if to say he had knowingly uncrossed them from their original positions. "I'm trying to do you a favor", Malfoy said with more conviction than his little body is capable of. "Weasley may be a pureblood, but blood traitors aren't welcome in our circles", he said very matter-of-factly.

George nudges me until I look at him. "What did you do?" He whispered. Because I am the only Weasley Malfoy could be referring to. I am the only Weasley Pucey has regular contact with. Unless Fred and George's pranks can be considered as friendship.

I shrugged at him to indicate that I didn't know. At the same time, Fred let out an obnoxious snore. George and I look back over to the Slytherins up on the hill in time to see Stimpson pick her face up out of her hands. "That's right" She declared in a weepy voice. Thick lines of black run down her cheeks, smudging in certain areas She turned until her whole front was facing Pucey, and clasped onto his arm. "Your family won't approve". She said it as if she had been granted a miracle. "You can just write this off as a passing fancy and move on," She said forcefully, leaning into Pucey at the end of her sentence. Pucey shakes her off by snatching his arm out of her possession, but he doesn't look away from Malfoy and goons.

"My family is already aware of who I choose to spend time with", he said, staring Malfoy down. "The Weasleys are apart of the sacred twenty-eight, and my parents see no issue in associating with a family that has such old ties". Pucey has his eyes squarely on Malfoy. He can't be bothered to spare a glance at Stimpson, or Crabbe and Goyle. "And for the record, Malfoy, your father is not our biggest client". In a way, it is a diplomatic answer. Pucey stated the value of my family (the one we don't care about in the slightest) to Malfoy, who only cares about value. All the while stating that he couldn't be swayed from his current position. In conclusion, it was a statement that couldn't pin Pucey as being sympathetic to anyone's opinion.

But Stimpson would not be ignored! "Please, Adrian!" She begged, reaching for his arm again. But Pucey sidesteps her, causing her to scramble to save her balance. "You can do so much better", she urged.

Finally, Pucey turned his eyes to the girl beside him. With the distance between us and the Slytherins, George and I are unable to see the look that he gives her. But whatever it was it must have been ugly, because Stimpson retreated as if she had been confronted with a rabid dog. "I don't know what you are implying, Stimpson. Frankly, I don't care. But please reframe from following me around". Pucey sounds like he is at the end of his rope and I marvel at his self-control to not yell at the girl.

Malfoy, however; decides that he needs to have the last word. "I think you know exactly what she's implying" the little snot piped up. "We all saw it". Malfoy said making a wide gesture with his hand to himself and his goons. "You were snogging the Weasley girl in broad daylight for anyone to see at that quidditch match". Suddenly I started choking on air, as I sputtered. It seemed that Ron had something in common with the heir to the Malfoy family. Both of the boys had very active imaginations. "It isn't decent. Not for people like us". Malfoy spoke with far more confidence than a first-year is entitled to.

Feeling obligated, I turned to George, who was watching all of this with his mouth hanging open. "I promise", I whispered. "That didn't happen".

But at my words, George composed himself. The git shrugged as he said, "We've told you before Holls, you have terrible taste in men". I frown at him, but ultimately, I am grateful that he didn't take Malfoy's comment at face value. Good to know that our sibling trust is stronger than schoolboy gossip.

However, Malfoy's comment has an escalated effect on Stimpson. Erupting in another bout of wailing sobs, Stimpson points a finger at Pucey, seemingly unaware that the three first-years were snickering behind her back. Except it isn't Pucey she accuses. "It's her," she said contemptuously. "Isn't it? She did something to make you like this?"

Grinding his teeth Pucey said, "Stimpson, no one is capable of making me do anything". His voice rises at the end as a bit of his irk slips through.

Blowing hot air out of her mouth and nose, Stimpson turns away from Pucey. But in the middle of that action, she catches sight of her audience. Her audience being me a George. Her eyes widen, and for a moment she freezes, and the little gears in her mind turn. "Bullocks" I muttered as I started to move my legs under me so I could stand up. It would appear that witnessing a Slytherin fight isn't a spectator sport; in the sense that spectators will be pulled in so that they are no longer spectators.

"I know she did something to keep you from me!" Stimpson roared as she turned her accusing finger in our direction down the hill. Causing all of the Slytherin boys to look at us as well. Malfoy looked almost gleeful Stimpson pushed past him and Crabbe as she stomped down the hill; fumbling to get something out of her robe pocket. George shifts next to me as if he is bracing for impact. I should probably do the same, but all I manage to do is sit up. I don't stand. I don't pull out my wand. The thought doesn't even occur to me after I make eye contact with Pucey. He looks tired with dark circles around his eyes and there is a sort of heaviness in the way he is holding his shoulders. But more than anything else, he looks like a lawyer who had just lost a good rapport with a jury. Me studying Pucey is the reason why I don't notice Stimpson stopping a couple of feet away from me and my brothers with her wand pointed at us until it is too late to do anything. "You did something" Stimpson yelled, spit flying out of her mouth. In combination with her makeup running down her face, it gave her the impression of a deranged lunatic. "You did something to Keep Adrian from consorting with the right sort!" Still, Fred remained asleep. George, on the other hand, had stood up. I could feel him looming over me. But I didn't turn around to see if he was going to do anything. It's hard to turn around when there is a wand pointed at you. "First Hogsmeade and now this!" Stimpson practically exploded as she aired all of her grievances. To be honest, if this girl's only complaint is that she didn't have a date to Hogsmeade she must live a very charmed life. "Someone needs to put you in your place. Aguamenti!" As a jet of icy cold water shot out of Stimpson's wand like a high-pressure fire hose.

I jump up to my feet as I am drenched within seconds. My hat goes flying off my head and falls onto the now muddy grass. Fred and George's hat meets the same fate. George is in a similar situation as he tries to block the water from hitting his face with his hands. and his little house is swept away. It seems neither of us were fast enough to draw our wands. Fred gets the worse of it, however. Awoken by the sudden onslaught of water he yelped, "Bloody Hell!". Scrambling to his feet as he frantically tried to figure out what was happening. He shook his head in all directions trying to take in anything that may be relevant to the situation he had awoken to. But all that achieves is making him look like a wet dog who is trying to shake his fur dry. Once Stimpson's spell ends, the three of us are sputtering as we cough up a mouthful of water each. And we're shivering as water drips off us. I'm glad that I reached for a black t-shirt this morning instead of a white one. Stimpson lowers her wand with a satisfied smirk on her pouty lips. "That's a much better look on you, Weasley". She said as she places her hands on her hips in an akimbo style. "The guttersnipe should never leave the gutter. Sometimes it's important to remind slags of that fact". Behind Stimpson, the Slytherin first-years were howling with laughter. But they were the only ones laughing. The sudden display of magic had garnered the attention of other students as a small crowd was starting to form a healthy distance away from us. So, a lot of people saw as Fred lunged in Stimpson's direction with his hands balled up into fists.

"What did you call my sister?" He demanded to know as George stepped forward to haul Fred back. At the same time, I turned around to push Fred away from Stimpson. Even though Stimpson is a pest, there are too many people around to let Fred go off on her. Besides, we are Weasleys. We always get the last laugh in the end. Fred's face had changed to a vibrant red color despite how chilled he must have felt. Glancing over Fred's shoulder, I can see that George isn't doing much better. Chivalrous Gryffindors these two are. I never doubted it.

"It's okay" I whispered to them, as I tried to gain control of the situation. On the inside, I was fuming too. But Jessie had experienced a lot of adolescent grudges during her childhood. Her memories had made me determined to avoid as much drama as possible. "We know the truth, and that's all that matters". I think Jessie read that in a book somewhere. Though I can't recall which book that was. Probably a book that didn't exist in this world.

Both Fred and George take reluctant deep breathes. It helps that the three of us know that this is not over. Not when we have an arsenal of pranks at our disposal. Stimpson won't get off scot-free for this.

"You heard me" Stimpson answers Fred's rhetorical question, incapable of keeping her big mouth shut. I rolled my eyes but stopped pushing Fred back in favor of pulling my wand out of the back of my jeans. It's tempting to use the stinging hex on Stimpson, but I settle for casting a drying spell on Myself and my brothers. With time, Fred, George, and I can come up with a much more creative way of getting back at the petty girl. "She's a slag. Always sniffing after Adrian". She said all of this with her nose up in the air. "She isn't even defending herself". As if that proved that I was guilty of all of the things she accused me of.

George opens his mouth to interject, but someone beats him to it. "Weasley's not saying anything, Stimpson" Pucey began to say. I turned around to see him walk down the hill, leaving the still laughing first-years behind. He walks past Stimpson and stands in the middle between us and her before finishing his sentence. "Because you haven't said anything that deserves a response". He spoke lowly with his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Adrian" Stimpson complained, her eyes growing watery.

"It is the wizard that peruses the witch," he said as if that was supposed to remind her of something. And who knows? Maybe it does. "And Weasley's place is where ever I wish it to be". Yeah, I definitively never agreed to that.

"Like hell, it is" George mutters, and this time Fred has to hold him back. All three of us bore glares at Pucey as he turns around, blocking Stimpson out entirely. Pucey and I will be having words about that last statement. If I can get to him before Fred and George tear him to pieces. What can I say? Through our time spent together growing up, I taught Fred and George to be feminists. Which they succeed at about 85% of the time.

Looking directly at us but ignoring our angry eyes, Pucey said, "I apologize for my housemates". He bows at the waist, acting way too formal for someone who is planning a conspiracy with us to discover Quirrell's dark secret. He holds the position for a few seconds before straightening his spine. "We'll talk later," he said, ignoring Stimpson as she bristled when she overheard him. Pucey turns and walks away, and soon the other Slytherins depart as well, taking the onlookers with them.

"Merlin, Holly" Fred complains, ruffling his hair in agitation as George bends down to retrieve our hats. "You have horrid taste in men".


	23. Let's Talk

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Let's Talk

My relationship with the brothers I shared a womb with is a complicated one. In most ways, I'm their triplet; an equal partner in crime. But for the past thirteen years, I've also used them as a type of shield. Growing up, I didn't do anything unless they did it first; crawling, walking, talking, collaborative play. They were how I made sure Jessie's presence wasn't obvious. Over time, it turned into a different tactic. Fred and George attracted more attention than I did. Not that they were attention-seeking per se. They were just naturally inclined to do things that terrified Mum and amused Dad. In a family as big as ours, it isn't hard to hide behind siblings. But I could never hide from Fred and George. From a young age, they noticed every withdrawal, every copy-cat action, and every time I placed them in between myself and another person. I'm not sure when it started exactly, but by the time we were five George was answering questions that were directed at me. Mum would ask, "Holly, do you want pumpkin juice or milk?"

And George would answer, "We want milk".

Fred had taken to making decisions for us. Eleven-year-old Bill would ask if I wanted to play hide and seek or color when Mum placed him in charge of keeping all of us (except Percy) out of her hair. And Fred would answer, "Hide and seek, of course". Hide and seek in the Weasley household when we were all still young enough to enjoy it was an epic battle of wills. Who could stay hidden the longest? Who was willing to look in all the tight nooks and crannies that the burrow had to offer? Who was brave enough to hide in the attic with the ghoul? I didn't mind playing hide and seek. It was fun, especially with how competitive Bill and Charlie got about it. But sometimes I wouldn't have minded sitting out. Holly thought hiding with Fred and George in Mum and Dad's wardrobe was a blast. For Jessie, however; hide and seek quickly lost its novelty. It would have been nice to sit quietly and think. But that's not what a normal five-year-old would do. Fred and George had been normal five-year-olds... Relatively speaking. It felt safer to just go along with what they were doing. Following my fellow triplets was how I made sure I was a normal five-year-old too.

Of course, it's not like I never made any decisions. When it was my turn to pick the story for Dad to read to us before bed, I never let Fred or George choose for me. And as we got older, and I got more comfortable in my new body and with my new family, I stopped clinging to my fellow triplets as much. By the time the three of us entered Hogwarts, I was answering questions people asked me. I was capable of making my own decisions. And I was unbothered to be separated from Fred and George for a period of time. But the groundwork had already been laid out. Fred and George aren't demanding, but they do expect to lead. I'm usually just happy to be included, so I follow. At the moment, however; they wanted me to follow their example regarding our Pucey problem. But I was unsure if it was the right solution.

There's one thing worse than having Fred and George prank you, and it's Fred and George not pranking you. To never be the butt of a joke, to never on the receiving end of a punchline, or to never be included in a laugh was the same as being ghosted. Previously, Pucey had become a center point for all of Fred and George's hijinks. It was their way of testing him. As of last Sunday, Pucey failed that test. Now, as far as my fellow triplets were concerned, Pucey didn't exist. Pucey just didn't know it yet.

We didn't see each other again until potions class on Monday. For some reason, he hadn't gone to Quirrell's class from the period before. So, I was a bit surprised to see him already sitting at our shared cauldron as the rest of our class filed in. If my curiosity was greater than my apprehensive offense, I would have asked the Slytherin why he hadn't been in class. Instead, I slide into my seat without saying a word. I can feel his eyes on me as I pulled parchment out of my bag. But as I straighten in my seat, parchment in hand, I refused to look at him. A part of me felt silly. I should just ask him why he said those things about 'my place' and tell him why I didn't like it. Another part of me wanted to pretend it never happened. That's what Jessie would have done. Besides, our current plan involves Pucey. One last part of me, a side that solely belongs to Holly, didn't want to go against Fred and George. Snape hadn't started instruction yet. Today was a theory day, so without a potion to brew there really wasn't any reason to talk. Maybe I could skate by. After a terse moment, Pucey said lowly, "Weasley".

Do I act like I didn't hear him? Do I respond? Never before in my life have I wished for Snape to hurry up and start class. Tucking some hair behind my ear I hummed as I glanced over at my lab partner. His grey eyes are narrowed, and his face is void of everything welcoming. We spend a moment staring at each other; him with great scrutiny and me like a deer caught in the headlights. There's a phrase I never thought I would use in this life. "You're acting different" Pucey accused. "Why?"

Why, indeed. With shifty eyes, I glance over my shoulder to the opposite corner of the room. Fred and George are there; watching. I tried to plead to them with my eyes. What should I do? We never developed multiple telepathy (the upgrade to twin telepathy). Frankly, I think that's fiction even in the wizarding world. But it would have been really handy in this moment. George's eyes are sympathetic as he pursed his lips together. Fred shook his head at me as he leaned forward behind his and George's cauldron. But what did that mean? A cold, calloused hand engulfs the top of my mine.

"Don't look at them" Pucey's unyielding tones pulled me back. He waited for my brown eyes to meet his. "Look at me. Why are you being strange?" It takes a moment for my eyes to focus on their new target. But when they do, Pucey decided he had more to say. "well, stranger than normal".

This git. Suddenly, I wasn't so conflicted about speaking. "Why?" I asked a little more shrilly than I attended. "Is strangeness not allowed in 'my place'"?

Pucey's nose scrunches up for a brief moment. "What does that mean?"

Oh, as if he didn't know. "You tell me. You were the one who said it in the first-".

"Excuse me for interrupting what I am sure is riveting drama your feeble minds invented, but there are more pressing things to discuss". Snape said sardonically as he brought the class to order. His coal-black eyes seemed fixated on me as he said that. He refused to note that it takes at least two people to make riveting drama. When Snape turned his eyes away from Pucey and me, he said, "Today we will be learning the theory behind undetectable poisons". Oh, boy. Well, here's one lesson I don't want to miss out on. Except, Pucey's hand is still on top of mine.

With a small squeeze, he pulls my attention back to him. I could feel Fred and George looking at me as I turn back to Pucey. For the first time in my life, I wished Fred and George were actually Frida and Georgina. Maybe then they could understand why it was so hard to ignore the smoldering chauvinist sitting next to me. "We'll talk later", Pucey said before he withdrew his hand. I think he meant it as a question, but I didn't hear a question mark at the end of that sentence. I didn't say anything for the rest of the class. Instead, I sat through a lecture on undetectable poisons with an uneasy stomach, conflicting senses of obligation, and a dwindling amount of patience.

* * *

Standing in the doorway of the arithmancy classroom, I spend a solid two minutes staring at the back of Pucey's head with narrowed eyes. I didn't move. I didn't blink. Causing many of my classmates to cast me weird looks as they squeezed past me to get into the classroom. I'm not sure I can handle any more of this for the day. After yesterday's potions class, Fred and George grilled me for every little detail that transpired between Pucey and me. Even though I had nothing to report because NOTHING HAPPENED. Nothing other than a promise to talk later. Yet they continued to ask questions and took every opportunity to remind me that we decided to cut our losses with Pucey. Except WE didn't decide anything at all. Those two made the choice. Just like they always do. I was not consulted regarding the Pucey issue at all. I take a deep breath and hitch the strap of my book bag higher up on my shoulder. I'm annoyed at my brothers. But I can't be mad. I can't be mad when this really needs to be dealt with. Stimpson cannot be allowed to win. But that's getting off-topic. Since I can't decide if I want to talk to Pucey or not, I have been avoiding Pucey ever since potions class. An easy enough thing to do thanks to us being in separate houses. But in Arithmancy there's no Fred and George to use as buffers. And I can't avoid him unless I ditch class. I look away from Pucey and my normal seat next to him. He hasn't noticed that I have arrived yet. Maybe if I sit in the back of the room, he won't notice that I came to class at all.

The classroom is slowly filling up. There are not many open seats left as my fellow students locate their friends. No one moves to sit in my usual seat. It's become common knowledge amongst our year that unless occupied with my brothers, I sit next to Pucey during class. I find another open seat in the back of the room. And seeing who is sitting at the desk next to it, I'm surprised that it is still available. Making a split decision, I abandon my spot in the doorway and make my way to the back of the room. Dropping my bag by the empty desk I drop into the seat, startling my new neighbor. "Hi, Diggory," I said when he looked up from his arithmancy text. His grey eyes stare at me as his mouth is slightly open. Huh, I never noticed before that Diggory had the same eye color as Pucey. His isn't as calculating with an air of all-knowing as Pucey's is, though. "How are you?" I asked as I dug through my bag for the right materials. I go through a lot of parchment in this class.

"Um," the Hufflepuff stutters as he adjusted to the random girl who had never talked to him before, suddenly invading his personal space. Funny, Diggory is so popular with all the girls in our year, I thought he would deal better when confronted with one. Through the boy is only a third-year. I bet by the time he's a tri-wizard champion he will be more confident with the ladies. "I'm well, thanks". I nod at his answer as I get ready for class. Pucey hasn't turned around in his seat yet to look for me. I couldn't decide if that felt like a good thing or a bad thing. "Um," Diggory said, drawing my attention back to him. "Have we ever talked before?" The boy blushed a little as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. Right, it was probably a bit too familiar to just walk up to him and ask him how he was doing as our first conversation ever. I probably made Diggory fear that he had forgotten me. Like when someone starts talking to you like you know them, but you don't have a clue who they are.

"Sorry, no. I usually sit up front with that Slytherin who carries himself like a librarian with no social life. But I am trying to avoid the inevitable. So, I decided to sit somewhere else today". I said while staring Diggory down; daring him to tell me to move. Not that I thought Diggory would actually ask me to move. He's too polite. The boy is a Hufflepuff after all.

Diggory shifts in his seat. It seems I made him uncomfortable. "That sounds complicated," He said slowly.

I should back-off and give Diggory an out so he has a reason to not talk to me when I am in a less than stellar mood. But unbeknownst to Diggory, he has given me an outlet. I plan on making use of it. "It's not complicated really," I said, glancing upfront in time to see Pucey turn around. Our eyes lock and Pucey has the nerve to frown at me. It would seem that I am not in the right place. "Pucey said somethings that he shouldn't have. Now, my brothers, you know my brothers, right?" I don't wait for Diggory to answer as I move on with my story. "well, they want me to never speak to Pucey again. And Pucey wants me to speak to him despite the things he said. Except none of them asked me who I wanted to speak to or didn't want to speak to. Instead, they are assuming I'll do what they want because they want it. And I just can't deal with it anymore, so I think I might just ignore all of them until I figure something out". I said that in one breath, and by the end I am panting a little. Why hasn't Professor Vector started class yet? Of course, I said all of that, but I won't ignore Fred and George. Maybe I'll put some black pepper into their pumpkin juice as retaliation, but I can't completely ignore them. I need them.

Diggory is silent for a moment. Instead, he just stares at me. This isn't the first-time conversation people expect to have, so I don't blame him. After today, when I've calmed down, I'll look back at this conversation and probably feel embarrassed. But right now, I'm too irritated to care. "Um, what kind of things did Pucey say?" Diggory asked as I looked back at Pucey.

Pucey was suspiciously packing up his bag. Why? Class hasn't even started yet. I keep my eyes on Pucey as I answered Diggory. "Just some misogynistic things about where my place is. 'It is the wizard who pursues the witch and Weasley place is where ever I wish it to be'", I quoted probably a little more loudly than I should have as I watched Pucey abandon his usual desk. Is it weird that I remember exactly what Pucey had said that Sunday? I've been turning it over and over in my head ever since; trying to find meaning that was less offensive. But it just keeps making me upset.

"Oh, um" Diggory began to say as I watch Pucey head to the back of the room with his bag in hand. He better not come back here. "He's a pureblood". Diggory said as if that explained everything.

Tearing my eyes away from Pucey I glare at Diggory. "So! I'm a pureblood too. And being a pureblood isn't an excuse for poor behavior".

Diggory turns scarlet. When he got up this morning, he probably had no idea he would be dealing with a hormonal girl. "No, that's not what I meant. I just think Pucey's words have a different connotation attached to them than you do". The Hufflepuff said very awkwardly.

Oh, not him too. Not Diggory who's supposed to be this lady's man, beloved by all. This is it! I've had it with men. "Diggory", I said slowly. "Right now, you have a reputation for being handsome, very nice, and very smart with the girls in this school. But if you are telling me that you don't think wizards and witches are equal, I will-"

I am not allowed to finish my threat. "Weasley, this is not your usual seat" Drawled out the voice of Pucey, standing next to my side. I jump. Why didn't I hear him or sense him standing next to me?

Easily, I turn my ire on someone who actually deserves it. "There's no assigned seating in this class". I said, glaring up at the boy.

Pucey sighs, but he doesn't refute my comment. Instead, he addresses Diggory. "Do you mind if I sit back here with my friend? You'll see better in our usual seats" Pucey said calmly as he gestured his head in the direction of the front of the room. He said all of this as it I'm not currently trying to burn him with my eyes.

"Er…" Diggory said carefully. "I don't think she wants to sit next to you right now".

Yes! Thank you, Diggory. Maybe I don't have to threaten his good reputation after all. Pucey maintained his calm tone as he said, "Diggory, Neither Weasley nor her parents have refused me. So, unless you would like to throw your wand into the mix…" Pucey trailed off on purpose. Letting Diggory draw conclusions, and knowing that I wouldn't be able to do the same.

I hunch up my shoulders as I fume. Turning away from Pucey, I stare at Diggory; begging him to stay where he is. Diggory coughs once into a closed fit before he stands and picks up his things. My eyes widen out of their glare. I can't believe it! Thirteen-year-old Diggory is a coward. Or is he just not standing up for me because I'm not Cho Chang? It could also be due to all the strange stuff I said before Pucey coming over here… But that's not the point! "I don't think she understands what you're doing". Diggory said as he moved behind me to pass Pucey on his way to his new seat for the class. "You should probably-"

"I'm aware" Pucey interrupted. "It's all in hand," He said in dismal and he passed Diggory to claim his forfeited desk. In defeat, I watched Diggory's back as he settled into the desk I normally sit at. I should have sat next to another girl. "Weasley", Pucey said after a moment. He waits until I'm looking at him before continuing. "You're avoiding me".

"I can do whatever I want" was my immediate retort.

"Is it Stimpson?" Pucey asked, talking over me. "I didn't think she bothered you that much. You usually handle her childish attacks so well. There are things I can do to-"

This time I interrupt. "It's not Stimpson," I said with a roll of my eyes. Someone clearly hasn't been paying attention. Though, Stimpson is a bother. A bother that is going to be knocked down a couple of pegs pretty soon. "It's you".

"Me?" Pucey asked, sounding incredulous. Because the reincarnated death eater is just so innocent.

"Yes, you".

"I'm not the one who used Aguamenti on you and your brothers" Pucey reminded me.

I scoffed. "No, you're the one who acted like you get to decide where I belong". I glower at the boy. Daring him to disagree with me. He's lucky Charlie already graduated, otherwise there would be more consequences than just Fred and George pretending that he didn't exist. Not that Pucey knew that yet.

Pucey has the gall to roll his eyes. "You're taking that out of context".

"I don't think I am".

Professor Vector decided this would be the perfect time to start class. "Let's come together," she said with a clap of her hands. "Today we will be working on the application of our latest formula".

Pucey and I don't look away from each other. Instead, our focus is on staring each other down. "I didn't say anything wrong" Pucey declared firmly.

"You didn't say anything right, either" I whispered as Vector lectured.

"I was protecting you," Pucey said.

I widen my eyes and my eyebrow shot up in exacerbated disbelief. "How?"

Pucey doesn't get the chance to answer. "Ms. Weasley, Mr. Pucey, Class had begun. Face the front of the room and stop talking or I will have to separate the two of you and dock points" Vector said in her scariest teacher voice. Still not as effective as Snape's or McGonagall's, but better than Flitwick's. Her eyes remain on us and she doesn't resume her lecture until we looking at her with our mouth shuts.

Once her back is turned Pucey leaned over and whispered, "Let's talk later".


	24. Dear Adrian

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Dear Adrian

Following my conversation with Pucey at the end of the school day, I checked out the most ridiculous book ever written from the library. And this is coming from someone who read self-help books in her past life. The book was titled "The Ancient and Noble Guide to A Traditional Wizarding Courtship". The title alone made me embarrassed to even be holding the book. But Pucey had been adamant. After Arithmancy class, he pulled me aside while the rest of our class left. I wasn't allowed to avoid him. "All those things I said on Sunday were an offer of protection" Pucey had said. My immediate response was to scoff. Hell, I was scoffing now as I stood in the library thinking about it. That Sunday, I didn't feel protected. I felt singled out like a dog that was about to be adopted from a shelter.

The book weighed heavily in my hands as I turned it over. Like most books in the wizarding world, there wasn't a description on the back. I flipped it back over and stared at the embossed flower design that decorated the front cover with disdain. For some reason, I was associating reading this book with crossing a line that I could never cross again. It felt like after I read this book, I'd know things that I was scared to know. ridiculous, right? But Pucey had also said, "You wouldn't have taken this the wrong way if your family wasn't so anticonventional". As if this whole conflict was my fault. I had wanted to slap him. Hours after as I grip this book, I can still feel my hand itching to do so. My family isn't anticonventional. We aren't conventional either. We just don't proscribe to either side. We simply think for ourselves and make our own decisions. It's the reason why Bill gets along so well with the goblins he works with at Gringotts. Forcing myself, I open the book. Maybe there's a description on the inside. Jessie could recall muggle books that had descriptions on the inside rather than on the back. But Wizarding books tended to resemble the books Jessie could only find at consignment shops. The ones that were printed so long ago that their outside appearance was undescriptive from other books, and don't have summaries of their content. But the only thing I see is a title page. "The Ancient and Noble Guide to A Traditional Wizarding Courtship" written by Margret Dolohov in 1880. The new information had me rolling my eyes. At least I know it was written by a credible source. Not biased or outdated at all.

"Weasley", Pucey had gone on to say. At that point, we had been the last ones in the classroom. Even Professor Vector had left. Unluckily for me, it seemed that she didn't have a class after ours that would require Pucey and me to leave. "I wanted to wait. Generally, what I did isn't something people do until they are at least sixteen. But now the Slytherins, or at least the other heirs, have to leave you alone unless they want to contest me". Instantly, I was confused. There was a lot to unpack in that statement. I was still turning it over in my head as I stared at this book. Maybe there's a table of contents. Then I could pick and choose certain parts and wouldn't have to read the entire thing. I flipped past the title page, and luckily saw what I was looking for. The book consisted of twelve chapters. Meaning that the chapters must be pretty lengthy based on the size of the book. Chapter one was titled, "Selecting the Appropriate Partner for a Pureblood". Bloody hell. The following two chapters were of a similar mind; "Selecting the Appropriate Partner for an Ambitious half-blood", and "Selecting the Appropriate Partner for a Half-blood". Unsurprisingly, muggleborns were not included. I wondered what the difference was between an ambitious half-blood and just a plain half-blood. But I decided to just skip all three of those chapters for the sake of my mental health.

At what had been my befuddled expression, Pucey had said, "you are off-limits. I made you off-limits". That sentence went over as well as one would expect.

I had responded with, "You don't get to decide that!"

The fourth chapter was titled, "Making Your Intentions Known". I should probably start there. I flipped to the right page and started reading exactly where I stood. But my mind was still on the conversation I had with Pucey.

Pucey had sighed and looked up towards the ceiling as if he was pleading with Merlin to give him patience. Right, because he was the one who needed it. "Our numbers are dwindling, Weasley", he had said after he had collected himself. "They were dwindling when I was Regulus. And our numbers are even fewer now in this generation. Purebloods are having fewer children because couples are having a difficult time getting and staying pregnant".

"Yes, that is a consequence of interbreeding". I had said. But it's weak coming from me. My mum comes from the Prewett line, and both the Prewett line and the Weasley line have ties to the Blacks, so….

But Pucey had ignored me. "A lot of families are only producing one child. And in this generation, there have been more sons than daughters". Pucey had looked at me expectantly. As if I was suddenly supposed to get it. At my unmoved expression, Pucey had loudly sighed. He looked like he would like nothing more than to grab my shoulders and shake me until I saw what he so clearly did. "To keep bloodlines alive families are going to have to find their sons brides" Pucey had trailed off as if he was waiting for me to pick up his line of thought. I let him down. Pucey had huffed. "Your family isn't rich but your parents achieved something, specifically your mother, that the other pureblood lines will desire". At that point, he had lost me. The majority of purebloods that Pucey was referring to are families that see my family as blood traitors. We do not have anything those people would want.

Chapter four talked about making direct eye contact when talking to your chosen person. It encouraged wizards to go out of their way to escort witches to where they needed to go and to maintain contact whenever socially acceptable. In public, of course. It wouldn't do to have anyone accusing either party of inappropriate overtures. Chapter four encouraged witches to bat their eyes, ask a lot of questions, and to make their interests known to their parents. All asinine things that made me long for dating apps on smartphones. At least with dating apps, there weren't a million hoops to leap through.

Pucey had gone on the say with a boatload of exacerbation in his voice, "your mother, Weasley, had eight children. Eight healthy children, all that have presented as magical so far. You have a younger sister still at home, right? I'm guessing that she is magical too". It started to make a little more sense at this point. A suspected consequence of pureblood interbreeding was producing squibs. My family was very large and very magical. I guess we did have something others would want. "Not only that, but your mother had six sons and two daughters. Her oldest five are all sons. Your family has one heir and many spares". It was an awful phrase, but I got what Pucey was talking about in that context. Families needed sons to pass on their names. A family with an heiress would most likely end up passing on a different surname. Or be the end of the bloodline altogether if they failed to marry. Hell, before the 1900s a witch's inheritance got consolidated into her husband's property. The one exception I can think of where a pureblood witch passed on her name to her offspring was Madame Zabini with Blaise Zabini, in Ron's year, is the proof. Talk about a boon for witches' rights. "Not to mention that she conceived multiples. Do you know how rare multiples are in pureblood families?" Pucey had asked. In truth, I didn't know if multiples were rare to purebloods or not. It's not something I ever really thought about. I tried to think of all the sets of multiples I knew of at Hogwarts. Fred, George, and I were the only triplets. Then there were the Patil sisters in Ron's year, but I didn't know if they were half-bloods or purebloods. Then there were the Carrow sisters, but I couldn't remember if they had started Hogwarts yet. Was that a lot of multiples or not? I really didn't know.

But I couldn't see how what Pucey had been saying connected to the events from Sunday. Chapter five was titled, "A Recognized Courtship". As far as content goes, there wasn't much there. It was addressed mostly to wizards. Stating that they needed the witch's family's blessing before the courtship was official. The book recommended that the wizard have his parents introduce the courtship to the witch's family. There was no romance in traditional wizarding courtship. It sounded more like a business transaction.

Pucey went on to say, "so it doesn't matter if your family is considered to be blood traitors. You won't get any offers from families like the Malfoys". When he had said that, I thanked Merlin for small mercies. "But you and your sister, assuming that she is magical, will get offers".

It was something I never had considered. Why would I? The Burrow is like its own little bubble. We rarely venture into wizarding society as we didn't maintain many social connections except for family and a few of Dad's work friends. There wasn't really any need. Great Aunt Muriel was about all we could handle. Marriage and dating also wasn't a conversation I've had with Mum yet. In truth, I've been avoiding it. Did Mum know about all this traditional courtship nonsense? Did Dad? Or had Pucey been trying to pull a fast one over me? That's partially the reason why I came to the library to find a book like this one. But still, not all of the dots were connecting.

Pucey had to spell it out further. "You're a reincarnated soul, Weasley. Worse, you said in your past life you were a muggle. Do you think you can keep that a secret when you get married?".

I had responded with, "If I get married". Emphasizing the word if. I don't have to if I don't want to". In truth though, I was stalling. I have never considered marriage. Not as Holly at any rate. I haven't thought of my future at all past the war. My mission, my one goal was to make sure Fred lived. And to make sure no one else in my family died in his place. After that, I didn't see much of a purpose for my existence. I imagine there's a place for me at Fred and George's future joke shop. But I didn't know if I wanted that or not. I wasn't sure if I even had a future after the war.

Pucey had ignored me. "If people found out I was Regulus Black reincarnated, even with Sirius being set free, there would be repercussions. We will only be secure together".

I flipped to the fifth chapter. It's titled "Love Letters". I had to fight the urge to gag. Who needs instructions on how to write a love letter? The chapter went into detail about what was allowed and what was inappropriate. Something that surprised me, was that the book said letters were an appropriate way to communicate with your chosen partner without needing supervision. In a sense, it was saying that if couples were to do anything was deemed inappropriate Letters were the acceptable medium. It seems there were loopholes even in rigid pureblood society.

Perhaps, I didn't need to worry about my future. From the way Pucey had been talking, it sounded like he had already planned the future for us. At that point in our conversation, I had asked, "Did it ever occurred to you that I don't want to go along with what you're suggesting? My family knows about Jessie, and they don't care! I can live a happy life with them and without being tied down to anyone else".

Pucey had rolled his eyes. "You've been perfectly agreeable up until now. Agreeing to go to Hogsmeade with me".

"That was a transaction".

"I've loaned you my scarf on a couple of occasions".

"I was cold".

"And yet you never managed to bring your own scarf. The wizard sharing garments is a form of courting". And judging by what this book was saying, Pucey had been right. I wondered if he had read this book. "Then there were all those times when we were talking that you kept getting closer and closer".

I had answered, "That's just harmless flirting!" Immediately, I had to take a step back. Before that moment I had never referred to our interactions a flirting. It felt like ripping off a band-aid. I didn't like it. But I had managed to regain myself seconds later. "I wasn't aware that having fun with you was the same as promising myself to you".

Pucey had said the last line, "you can refuse my advances at any time, Weasley. But until you do, I am going to write this off as a spat, and follow through with my intentions". And then he had stood there, having placed the ball in my court.

I had taken the metaphorical ball and ran with it. Literally, I turned around and ran from the classroom. I didn't run because I was scared, or because I didn't want to face Pucey. I left because I was unsure of what I wanted to do. I don't want to lose what potential friendship I could have with Pucey. I also didn't want to encourage this foolishness. Past experiences had taught me that relationships don't work out for some people. Jessie's experiences had taught me that. Images of blood and a knife flashed through my mind, and I had to pause to take a deep breath. That was… that was a new memory. Or rather, a newly recovered memory. That night. The night I lost Jessie and became conceived as Holly, whoever had killed me had been important to me. Now, as I stood in the library reading this stupid book, I refused to think about it. I have never been able to remember Jessie's killer, and in a way, I was grateful for that because it meant that was one demon I didn't have to deal with. I didn't like it that there was a chance I could remember more. So, I forced my attention to remain on Pucey and all of the things he had said to me. I didn't want to reject Pucey. I didn't want to encourage him either. So, that left the only thing I knew how to do; get even.

* * *

Under the judgment and great scrutiny of Madam Pince, I checked out the book about traditional wizarding courting. Despite being repulsed by the book, it gave me ideas that I can use. Particularly the chapter about letter writing. I started forming a loosely constructed plan as I made the trek up to Gryffindor tower. With some cleverly worded pose and some practiced forged handwriting, I think I could show Pucey exactly what he can do with his courting and get back at Stimpson for that water stunt at the same time.

Despite Fred and George trying to pull my attention to them when I entered the common room (probably to remind me that we were no longer speaking to Pucey), I headed straight for my dorm. Alicia and Angelina weren't there. Neither were the two non-named roommates that I didn't care to know. Alicia and Angelina were probably somewhere else in the castle, staring at Diggory. When I got the chance, I would have to tell them about the conversation I had with him today. They wouldn't care about the content of the conversation. But they would want to hear about what Diggory's eyes looked like when he talked to me. They probably wouldn't like it when I compared them to Pucey's eyes. I couldn't care less what the other two were doing. Having the room to myself worked in my favor. With the library book in hand, I dropped my bookbag by the foot of my bed. Next, I fished out some spare bits of parchment along with a quill and ink. With everything in hand, I climbed up on my bed, shoes and all. Drawing the curtains shut, I set myself up to write the most nauseating letter that there ever was.

_To Miss Stimpson,_

_The events of last Sunday have been weighing on my mind. While I cannot condone your unbecoming actions, I have to admit that I am starting to see your point. While I find Weasley to be different from her family, she is still not cut from the same cloth as you and I. Perhaps it would be advisable to select a different witch. I know I am fourteen, so I have time before anything official is expected of me, so I will consider my options carefully. This is my written promise to you that I have not written you off._

_The appeal I see in Weasley is valid. It is as I said on Sunday. Weasley has done nothing wrong. It is not her that has ensnared me. Rather, it is the other way around. I am trying to ensnare Weasley. Weasley's family has a significance that I cannot overlook. As I am sure you are aware, a pureblood family with eight children is a rarity. The Pucey line could only benefit from such an increase in numbers. My parents had me at an older age than is the norm. So, it is vital that I do what I can to guarantee the future of the Pucey line. Though, Weasley does lack all sense of social etiquette. She seems to be oblivious to my intentions, while I feel I have been straight forward with my advances. You, however, know the ins and outs of our society. You understand the subtleness of our culture that Weasley is ignorant to. Patricia, I do see you._

_Logically, I know you would be the smarter choice. A witch raised to be a matriarch of a pureblood family. However, I cannot deny the appeal Weasley possesses. I have always found red hair to be breathtaking._

Here I had to pause. Partially because writing this letter was making me feel sick and partially because I wondered if I could use this letter to get Stimpson to do something. Something that Pucey would hate. Maybe something like…

_Weasley doesn't have it all, however. I have always been fond of girls who are musically inclined. Girls who can sing, hum, and chant in perfect harmony throughout everyday life. If only a girl like that existed. Anyway, I don't mean to keep you. I just wanted to write to ensure you that while I am considering Weasley's place, I am also considering yours._

_Since we are not in a recognized courtship, I ask that you keep our correspondence between us. It would be better if you do not reply to this letter, or confront me about it for the sake of your reputation. If you must respond, please use the same owl that delivered this to you. That will be the safest method for both of us._

_With found regards,_

_Adrian Pucey_

Now all I needed to do was find an owl.


	25. Pandora's Letter Box

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Pandora's Letter Box

Wednesday morning in Quirrell's class, sandwiched between Fred and George, I saw a sight that had me bursting with laughter; similar to a paper mâché volcano eruption. Stimpson had gotten my letter. I could tell because the dish-water blonde was now sporting tomato sauce colored hair. Like real red-colored hair. Not the natural ginger color everyone in my family has. But like red as a primary color red. Think Clifford the big red dog red. Whatever charm or potion Stimpson used to change her hair color, I don't think she did it right. My sudden unexpected laughter was drawing attention from our classmates. Fred and George half-turned in their seats in my direction. They used their body language to ask what was so funny. To muffle my laughter, I turned towards Fred and buried my face into his shoulder. They'll find out what's so funny after they take a look around the room. Fred, George, and I returned to our normal flow after I sent that letter. Which is just a way to say that it no longer bothered me if they want me to ignore Pucey or not because I finally had control of the matter. Not that Fred and George knew that. I hadn't told them about my letter to Stimpson. But they are about to find out.

"Holls," Fred said as he placed an arm over my shoulders. "Want to share with the rest of the class?"

But George found the answer for him. "Merlin! Look at Stimpson's hair".

Since my face was hidden in Fred's shoulder, I didn't get to see their expressions. But Fred's "What tomato puked all over her?" was descriptive enough for me. Following Fred and George's example, the rest of the Gryffindors in the room started to titter and mutter at the ostentatiousness of the Slytherin. Vibrant color palates were something we typically expected from Ravenclaws or quidditch game days. It wasn't something we associated with Slytherin house. Stimpson's house was holding their tongues. As far as I could tell. Probably for solidarity, I suspect. Maybe they were giving her grief about this fashion choice behind closed doors. One can only hope.

With nothing to look at, I was able to reign in my amusement. Composed I picked my head up from Fred's shoulder and turned to study Stimpson some more. Merlin, I was trying to get Stimpson to do something that would grate on Pucey's nerves, but I didn't think she'd actually change her physical appearance. It's bloody brilliant, really. I'm glad to see that that letter was so effective. Stimpson was holding herself well. She seemed confident as she sat at her desk and got ready to take notes. As if she couldn't hear the snickering Gryffindors. In a small instant, I was jealous. I wondered what it felt like to have that much confidence. "Think it was on purpose?" George asked as he looked over at Fred and me. "I know people change their hair colors, but that just looks…" George trailed off.

"clownish" Fred supplied.

That set me off again. My eyes watered as I bit my lip to keep the laughter on the inside. It was just a shame that Pucey wasn't in Defense class again. Briefly, I wondered why he was skipping, but it was hard to focus. "If Stimpson looks like that, I guess you two are no longer the class clowns". I forced out between waves of choked laughter.

Fred and George focused their eyes on me. "Jolly Holly" George started to say with a certain lightness in his voice. "it sounds like you know something that we don't".

"Something mischievous perhaps" Fred added.

That was my cue to fess up. I cleared my throat. "I may have sent a letter to Miss Stimpson last night under the guise of Pucey that proclaimed his attraction to redheads, his search for an appropriate future-mother-of-his-children, and how he is fond of girls who randomly sing throughout the day". I choose not to look at Fred or George as I said all of that, even though I could feel their eyes boring into me. Instead, I stare at the front of the room. Also refusing to look at Stimpson. I had just stopped laughing. It wouldn't do to start up again. Instead, as I wait for my brothers to process my words, I watch Quirrell as he putters about the front of the classroom. We probably had a couple of minutes until the class officially starts.

"Holly Molly Weasley", Fred said in a strange mixture of consternation and pride.

"Not my middle name", I corrected with a small shake of my head. Mum and Dad weren't cruel enough to give their children rhyming names. Besides, Molly was Ginny's middle name. But that never stopped Fred and George from insisting that Molly was my middle name. They said that they liked how it rolled off of the tongue. For our entire first year of school, they even had Lee believing that my middle name was Molly.

"That was impish, wily, and ruthless. And you did it without our help". George said, his tone of voice matching Fred's. I couldn't tell if they approved or not. Perhaps a bit of both. I glanced over at George. His lips were pressed together, but his eyes were swimming with mirth. "They grow up so fast, don't they Gred?"

Instantly, I rolled my eyes and looked back to the front of the room. Not this bit again. "That they do Forge". Fred said. "Why it feels like yesterday that Jolly Holly was learning the fine art of practical jokes".

"And then she started to prank us and our family".

"And now she's branching out to unsuspecting Slytherins", Fred said as both he and George ignored my growing agitation. They make it sound like they are the only ones in our family with a sense of humor.

"Oh, how the times flies," they said together with mock dramatics.

I shake my head once more. "You two make it sound like I'm younger than you". I complained.

"You are" George assured me.

"By ten minutes" Fred went into further detail. These gits, as if a ten-minute difference actually means something. "That's why you have a name that starts with an 'H' instead of a name that starts with an 'F'".

"Technically", I said as Quirrell started to outline today's lesson on the blackboard. "I am twenty-five years older than both of you. Hell, I'm technically older than Bill". And wasn't that a strange viewpoint?

"Nope" Declared George. "you don't get to play the reincarnated card whenever it suits your fancy".

"We are older by ten or so minutes" Fred reiterated. "Which is why you should listen to us when we tell you a bloke is bad news". When pigs fly, I thought.

"And why you are going to include us in this letter prank before it blows up in your face", George added, sounding a little too happy based on the content of his sentence.

I shot my brothers accusatory looks out of the corners of my eyes in turn. "What makes you think it is going to blow up in my face?"

"Because, Jolly Holly" George started, sounding like a parent who was trying to explain the facts of life to a small child.

"you lack foresight" Fred finished. I snorted at the irony. Me, lacking foresight? The girl who knew what was going to happen in the future… relatively speaking.

I didn't get a chance to respond. Just as Quirrell was about to start class, Lee came barging into the classroom with his bookbag haphazardly thrown over his shoulder and a piece of buttered toast between his lips. No one was surprised. After three years, we were all used to Lee's late starts. "You were c-c-cutting it pretty close M-mister J-Jordan" Quirrell stuttered a warning as Lee skirted behind George and me before he dropped down into the seat next to Fred.

"Did I miss anything?" He asked around a mouthful of toast, completely ignoring Quirrell. I can't blame him. When you don't know what is under Quirrell's turban, Quirrell is pretty unremarkable. But we don't have to point anything out to Lee. It only takes him a brief moment before he spotted fire-hydrant Stimpson. "Merlin!" Lee exclaimed in an outside voice. "Look at Stimpson's hair. She looks like a redcap!" At this point, every person in the room was either looking at Stimpson or Lee. Fred, George, and I immediately started to snigger. And a few other Gryffindors soon joined us. I couldn't get the image of Stimpson walking around looking for people to bludgeon so she could add their blood to her hair.

At Lee's loud comment Stimpson adopted a furious expression. I'd be furious too if I was being compared to a magical creature that repulsed beauty. But still, it felt like a relatively fitting comparison for Stimpson. "J-Jordan!" Quirrell scolded. "T-That's five points f-from Gryffindor!"

* * *

Stimpson made it to the potion's classroom before myself, my brothers and Lee did. She was standing to the side of the lab table I share with Pucey, blocking my seat. But in this instance, I didn't mind. Not when Pucey was refusing to look at Stimpson. Sharing a knowing look with my brothers I left them and Lee to go to my assigned spot. Which puts me in the best place to hear her singing, "Good Morning, Adrian. I missed you in class".

I started to choke on air. Merlin, this was a good day. Pucey didn't seem to agree if his hunched shoulders were anything to go off of. I composed myself well enough to be able to say, "excuse me but you're blocking my seat". At the sound of my voice, both Stimpson and Pucey turned in my direction. Stimpson looked me up and down as if she had just stolen something important from me right under my nose. While Pucey had a pinched expression. He looked like he was in so much pain that one would suspect him of having an aneurism. I wonder if Stimpson had started the day out with singing for Pucey. Heh, wouldn't that be a wake-up call?

"How about you sit will Warrington today?" Stimpson sang sweetly. For Pucey's benefit, I'm sure.

I forced myself to cough into my hand to prevent myself from laughing in Stimpson's face. I already did that during the first period. I don't need to do it again. If I did it more than once Stimpson might start to notice a pattern. Pulling my attention away from the constipated look on Pucey's face, I looked over my shoulder at the burly blonde Slytherin sitting in the back of the room. Did I want to sit next to the great brute of Slytherin house when I could revel in Pucey's discomfort? No, I really didn't. Even though Warrington did have a rather impressive cowlick. "I don't think Snape would like us sitting out of our assigned seats". I said as I turned back to Stimpson.

Stimpson cast a look at Pucey, who nodded his agreement. He looked almost pleadingly at the girl. Begging her with his eyes to go away. Heh, sucker. Not seeing the support she was looking for, Stimpson looked over her shoulder at Hogwarts' foreboding potions master. Snape was standing behind his desk. His hands here pressed flat against the desktop as he leaned his weight onto his arms. Snape was staring at us. Particularly me and Stimpson with a conflicted expression. Almost as if he was in the middle of a moral dilemma. He probably didn't want to deal with whatever nonsense was underfoot. Smart man.

Stimpson turned back to face me and nodded once. She stepped out of my way, and I quickly slid into my seat before she could change her mind. It wouldn't do to be caught standing up when Snape did decide to start class. But I can't let Stimpson go quite yet. "Hey Stimpson, why are you singing?" I asked, keenly aware of Pucey as he groans and buries his head in his hands.

Stimpson grins at me, showing all of her pearly whites. She places her hands on her hips, as superiorly leaks into her singing voice. "I have always been musically inclined. What about you Weasley, do you like to sing?"

Merlin, it's like sitting through really bad dinner theater. I bite my lip and close my eyes for a brief moment. I have to remind myself to keep everything on the inside. If I wanted Stimpson to continue with this spectacle, I couldn't be too open with my ridicule. "No, it's never been my thing". I said a little breathlessly. It was getting almost painful to not laugh.

Stimpson looked like a cat that had just caught the canary. "That's a shame. I have it on good authority that boys like girls who are musical" Stimpson sang as she winked at Pucey. Not that he could see it, considering he was still hiding his face in his hands. With that last note sung, Stimpson turned on her heels and just about floated to her seat next to Warrington.

I watched her go, and when I turned back to Pucey, I had a wide smile on my face. While I had been watching Stimpson, Pucey had picked his head up from his hands. And he was staring at me. His grey eyes were darker than usual, and displeasure was etched into his brow. That's karma for you. "What was that about?" I asked, playing innocent.

But Pucey didn't answer me. Instead, he spent the time until Snape started class just staring at me. As if he couldn't quite put his experience with the musically inclined Stimpson into words.

* * *

For the rest of the day, I was in good humor. Even when Lee tried to place his hand on my knee under the table at dinner. It was hard to be in a bad mood when everything was going my way. Whenever I saw Stimpson and Pucey together, Stimpson was singing. I even heard it on the rumor mill, that when she had been singing in Flitwick's class, Flitwick asked her if she would like to try out for the choir. Of course, Stimpson accepted. I bet Pucey had been thrilled. That night I had felt more relaxed than I had all year. I played a game of chess with Ron (which I lost), I filled Fred and George in on my letter writing skills, I gossiped about Diggory with Angelina and Alicia, and I even asked Percy to help me with my herbology homework. For once I felt like a regular thirteen-year-old girl. I didn't think about Quirrell's dirty secret or all the things Pucey had said to make me so irritated in the first place. That is until I went up to my dorm to find an owl perched on my headboard with a letter tied to its leg. The same school I had used to send the letter to Stimpson. Almost giddy, I walked over to my bed to retrieve the letter. My hands were almost shaking in anticipation as I untied the letter from the owl's leg. Whatever is written in here must be comedic gold.

Once I had the letter, the owl hooted once and flew over to perch on top of Angelina's trunk. Maybe it was told to wait for a reply. I turned the letter over in my hand, to see a neatly constructed wax seal that resembled the iconic Slytherin snake. Quickly, I broke it and unfolded the letter.

_My dearest Adrian,_

_I can't begin to describe the uplifting feelings I had today as I made myself a better fit for you. I am sure that you noticed my change in hairstyle. It is a bit more vibrant than I had like. But at the next Hogsmeade weekend, I am sure I can find a hairdresser who will have to right potion I need to make it the perfect red hue. Rest assured my love. I am sure, you have also noticed my singing voice. I hope that is up to your standards as well. Though I can ask Father for some voice lessons when I go home for Easter break. I'd do anything for you, Adrian._

_We both know that Weasley wouldn't do the same. Remember, in potions class, she said that she didn't like to sing. Do you really want to accept a girl that will never sing for you? I'd sing for you every day._

_Adrian, your letter from last night meant so much to me. I don't think you'll ever understand just how elated you've made me. I just had to write back. I know you encouraged me not to. But I did hunt down the same owl that you used. It was clever of you to not use your personal owl. I also respected your request by not confronting you about the letter in person. Oh, it was so romantic how you considered the well-being of my reputation! But I am not sure I can wait, my love. How can I convince you that I am the one? What can I do to help make our courtship official? I'll be counting the moments, Adrian dear._

_Love,_

_Patricia Stimpson._

I had to read Stimpson's letter a couple more times as every little tidbit sunk in. Merin, this was… this was brilliant. Absolutely bloody brilliant. With the latest letter in hand, I held out my arm and called the owl over. It only took a few seconds to flutter over before it was perched on my forearm. This letter had to be replied to at once. It would be unkind to keep a devoted girl like Stimpson waiting. With the owl balancing on my arm, I left the third-year girls' dorm and bounded down the stairs. I passed Angelina and Alicia as I went. "I thought you were going to bed" Alicia called after me. But I didn't look back. I had a letter to write after all. The common room had quieted down quite a bit, and no one seemed to mind or care when I started climbing up the boys' dorm staircase. I suppose everyone who knows me is probably used to it at this point.

When I reach the third-year-boys dorm room door, I don't knock. Though I probably should have. Instead, I barge right in. "Not again!" One of Fred and George's no-name roommates squeaked as he hurriedly finished pulling up his pajama bottoms. But I am not looking at him. Fred was already in his bed, having a conversation with Lee as Lee finished changing. Unlike the no-name roommate, Lee already had his pajama bottoms on. It was a shirt he lacked. George was nowhere in sight.

"Fred," I said excitedly, breaking up what I am sure was a quidditch related conversation. Ignoring the continued complaining from the no-name roommate, I waited for Fred's attention before continuing. Fred turned his head in my direction, while Lee turned his whole body.

Lee leans against one of the posts of his four-poster bed, giving me a good view of his lithe thirteen-year-old abdomen. For someone who doesn't play quidditch, Lee really is rather fit. "Well, hello," Lee said in what he believed to be a suave voice. "Just couldn't stay away could you". Lee wrangled his eyebrows at me.

I blinked once before looking away. "Fred", I said.

With a laugh, Fred addressed his best friend. "Down boy" He joked. "Let's leave Jolly Holly alone. You don't want her anyway. She's mean". I rolled my eyes as I walked over to Fred's bed, giving Lee a wide berth. Glad to hear that my brother thinks so highly of me. The owl is still perched on my arm, though now it's taken to preening its feathers.

Lee shrugs as he turned back to what he was doing before my arrival. "Some blokes like mean girls," He said as I lowered my arm for the owl to hope onto Fred's bedside table.

"Where's George?" I asked as I climbed onto Fred's bed so that our shoulders were touching. Fred moves over just enough to give me room to fit.

"Bathroom" Fred replied. "Why did you decide to grace us with your presence?" Fred asked as he cast a questioning look at the owl that was now grooming itself amongst his things.

I grinned widely at my brother to the point that he was inching away from me. They may refer to me as Jolly Holly, but they really don't know what to do during the few times that I am actually jolly. "Look at this," I said, shoving Stimpson's letter into Fred's hands. He takes it from me. Just the salutation had him cracking up. But he read it faster than I initially did. Probably because he didn't feel the need to analyze it as I had done. He finished at the same moment that George came back from the bathroom.

At the sight of me in Fred's bed, George looked surprised, with his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Unless we had plans it was weird to see me in their dorm before I had a chance to have a nightmare. But when Fred held out Stimpson's letter to him with a snickering "George", George had no problem joining in.

Fred and I wait in anticipation as George read the letter. Meanwhile, Lee and the rest of their roommates finished preparing for bed. We ignored the no-names mumbling complaints about girls invading their room. "Blimey," George said after a minute. "That was so disgustingly sweet. I think my teeth might rot".

"What is it?" Lee asked from his bed.

"Holly's pulled a prank on some Slytherins" Fred explained as George handed me back the letter.

"Really?" Lee asked, sounding surprised. I am not new to practical jokes. That would be impossible when I spend the majority of my time attached to Fred and George. But I usually don't branch out on my own.

I nod once at Lee before asking my brothers, "help me write a reply?" They had said they wanted in on this prank. Fred nodded as George put away his toothbrush and grabbed some parchment, a quill, and some ink. I looked back over at Lee. I was in a good mood tonight. "Want to join?"

Lee's face lit up like a firework had just gone off. "Yeah," he said as he scrambled off of his bed. So, the four of us crammed into Fred's bed. Fred and I had our backs pressed against the headboard, while Lee and George sat at the foot of the bed. We drew the curtains and cast a silencing charm so the no-named roommates couldn't hear us. And then, it was letter writing time.

_Patricia,_

_You did wonderfully today. I thank you for your efforts. You are quite right, Weasley's lack of musical motivation was disappointing. Don't change your hair again. I thought today's shade of red was absolutely stunning. I only regret that I couldn't tell you so in person. Please ignore all of the others who laughed at you. It's jealousy, I assure you. As for the voice lessons you mentioned, I think they are unnecessary. To my ears, your voice was pitch-perfect._

_Thank you for seeing the wisdom of not sending my own owl. It wouldn't do for any of our letters to be traced back to us. At least, not when we are communicating under the table. Regarding your request to move into a recognized courtship, I apologize. I am still uncertain and am not quite ready. What would you say about meeting up? After hours of course. Far from the Slytherin common room. That way there is less of a chance of any indecent rumors getting back to our parents. We could meet in the trophy room. No one ever goes there. And then I can tell you my approval in person._

_Sincerely,_

_Adrian Pucey_

Lee was on point with his use of vocabulary as he helped us script the letter. George was smart in looking over Stimpson's letter to make sure that we addressed everything. And Fred and I focused on making it sound like Pucey as much as possible. It had to be believable after all. We had a vague plan in mind as we sent out the latest letter to Stimpson. We weren't really trying to get Stimpson to break curfew. We really just wanted to see how much we could influence her to do. But if she agreed, maybe we could end this prank with something water-related. That seemed to be fitting. Especially since Fred and George hadn't forgotten the aguamenti incident. And I hadn't forgiven the slag comment yet either. This seemed like a good climax to the letter prank.


	26. Caught in the Rain

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Caught in the Rain

I blew hot air through my teeth to keep myself from yelping. "Lee" I seethed as I glared at the boy standing on my right. That jerk just had to step on my foot. In the darkened corridors, his face was hard to make out. The only lights we felt comfortable using were the dimly casted Lumos spell from Fred and George's wands.

Fred turned around from his spot in front of Lee and me. He made a shushing sound the same time George did. George stands in the back. Both of them had their wands held parallel with their eye levels. We were in the middle of a covert operation right outside the trophy room, hidden behind a couple of suits of armor. So, their demand for silence wasn't unreasonable but that didn't mean I didn't find it irritating. "How long do we have to wait?" Lee whispered. He didn't get shushed, much to my annoyance. "It's already after midnight".

"Stimpson's still in her dorm," Fred said, as he read the Marauder's map.

"Think she chickened out?" George asked. It would be bothersome if we set that triggered metelojinx up in the trophy room for nothing.

"Or maybe she figured out the letters were fake?" I offered. I hope not. I had been looking forward to this night. Messing with Stimpson was turning out to be a great source of stress relief. It was a good way to pass the time as we waited for word of Hagrid's dragon.

"Let's give it another fifteen minutes", Fred said. "If she doesn't show then we'll disarm our trap and go to bed". Fred and George were anxious to see if this would work. They had designed a dormant metelojinx that would only be triggered if someone walked under it. If I had to guess, I'd say we were looking at a potential future joke product.

"No sign of Filch or the cat?" Lee asked.

"No" Fred assured. "He's currently in the transfiguration hall, and Mrs. Norris is skulking around the astronomy tower". All four of us breathed a sigh of relief. None of us were afraid of Filch. We've spent so many detentions with Filch that we have been desensitized. But Filch wasn't something we needed to add to this equation. This was one elicit activity we did not want credit for. We fall into silence as we wait. All of our eyes or focused on the trophy room's doors. Anticipation builds as the minutes pass. And it is a steep let down when no one approaches the trophy room. Casting looks amongst the four of us, we breathe our disappointment out through our noses. Unbelievable, Stimpson stood us up. I was under the impression that Stimpson was obsessed with Pucey. I guess she has a healthier grasp of reality than I originally thought.

George runs a hand through his hair. "I'll go disable the trap," He said, before moving past all of us and squeezing out from behind one of the suits of armor.

"Maybe we can test it on Snape in his office" Fred whispered, as he folded the map and tucked it into his back pocket. But he didn't turn it off. We'd need it to get back to Gryffindor tower undetected.

Lee hummed as he followed Fred to go help George. "I think it might be better if we set if off in the great hall. Imagine the panic when breakfast gets canceled due to a thunderstorm". Lee had his hands folded behind his head as he walked.

"Yeah," I said slowly as I followed behind the boys. I can't believe this didn't work. I was looking forward to seeing a soaked Stimpson. "But then breakfast would be canceled". I'm not sure any prank is worth missing meals.

Standing in the trophy room doorway, George looks back at us. "She has a point, Lee".

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day" Fred chimed as he came to stand shoulder to shoulder with George. "But maybe if we can contain it to just the Slytherin table" Fred purposely trailed off as he and George ducked into the room.

Lee and I follow half a step later. Lee chokes on a singular laugh. If we weren't sneaking around after hours, he'd probably wouldn't have held it back. "I don't think I've seen a drowned snake before".

We are only a couple of feet in the trophy room door swings shut behind us. We freeze mid-motion. That was not supposed to happen. Tentatively, I turn back around and take the two steps needed to reach the doors. The doorknob is cool to the touch when a grab it. I tried to push the doors open, but no matter the amount of force I use, the doors remain shut. "Locked," I said, perplexed. The trophy room doors are never locked. And we didn't do anything when we entered. I pulled my wand out of my back pocket. A simple charm should be able to fix all of this.

"Probably just Peeves," George said, sounding unbothered. Peeves pestered us just like the rest of the school. But there is a bit of mutual respect. Or more Fred, George, and Peeves, than me and Peeves. Still, it wouldn't be unlike Peeves to alert Filch that we were out of bed after hours.

"Alohomora" I whispered with a tap of my wand. I regret it immediately. A burst of orange light emits from the doorknob and jumps up my wand arm. I gasped in a volume that is louder than I've used all night as I jumped back. A buzzing numbness engulfs my wand arm from the tips of my fingertips to my shoulder. My wand falls from my limb hand and clatters on the stone floor. It feels like my whole arm has fallen asleep; except I can't move it at all. Why can't I move my arm? Alohomora doesn't have a side effect like this. Alohomora doesn't have any side effects!

"Holly?" Fred whispered from somewhere behind me.

With my moveable arm clutching my paralyzed one, I look away from the doors. "Something is wrong", I informed them. "And I don't think it's Peeves".

Lee gulped. "What do you think it is?" He asked. Briefly, I wondered if this is what it would feel like to be in a horror movie.

The metelojinx forgotten, George said, "maybe check the map?"

With a nod of his head, Fred pulls out the piece of parchment from his back pocket. He unfolds it and it takes him a moment to orient himself. Fred barked a laugh, the importance of silence forgotten. "We've been played". He said as he looked at each of us, ending with me.

"What do you mean?" I asked. Fred walked over to me and used the light from the alit tip of his wand to show me the part of the map that had him so amused. Inside of the trophy room were four dots; all correctly labeled as myself, Fred, George, and Lee. Standing right outside of the trophy room doors was another dot. This dot was labeled Adrian Pucey. "Bullocks".

* * *

With the hand that is still mobile, I banged on the door. "Pucey" I called.

"Weasley" He mimicked my tone like the smug irritant he is.

I pursed my lips. I would prefer to not have this exchange, but George motions with his hands for me to go on. We have a plan. Not a very good plan, but it's still something. Rolling my eyes, I said, "What are you doing?"

I expected him to say something along the lines of; payback for the singing Stimpson, or literally state what he was currently doing. That would be his type of humor. Instead, Pucey said, "It's as you said, Weasley. Childish actions are a lot more fun". He quoted me way back when he confronted me about Fred and George charming his inkwell. I'm taken back. Childish actions… He's playing? From behind me, someone guffaws. I look over my shoulder to see Lee covering his mouth with his hands. We're locked in the trophy room after curfew, how is this funny? However, Fred and George seem to be in a similar mindset. Their eyes were bright with excitement at the promise of a challenge, and their lips were pulled back in matching grins. My brothers are the conspirators of many shenanigans. But few people ever try to turn the punchline on them. Oh, bother.

I try to think on my feet to come up with a witty comeback. Instead, I asked, "locking me in a room is fun?"

Pucey's voice drawls through the door. "It is just as fun as a musical Stimpson". Damn, so he was here because of the fraudulent letters. I had suspected, but it was unconfirmed until now. I frowned to myself, as I wondered how long he has known about them.

"So, what now?" I asked him, almost growling. A big part of why I wrote the letters was to feel control over the situation again. To manipulate the goings and happening so that things will be similar to my foresight knowledge. Knowing what's going to happen is such a comfort that I have grown very used to. Pucey took that comfort when he revealed that he was Regulus Black reincarnated. I thought I had wrangled it back. But then he locks me in the bloody trophy room.

"Now?" He asked with an insulting air of innocence.

He was going to make me say it. "Are you going to let us out? What did you do to lock the door? It did something to my arm when I tried to use alohomora." Mentioning my limb arm was a part of our plan. Our quickly created, but a slowly enacting plan. George steps closer to the door. My initial part was almost over, and soon it would be his turn.

"That is supposed to happen," Pucey said through the door. He sounded so smug. I wished I could slap him. "Don't worry. It won't last. Though for letting you out, I'm not sure". Git.

I step back from the door, to give George more room. "Ha Ha, Pucey," George said, not sounding like himself at all. The awful acting skills of the Weasleys was about to make a reappearance. "You've had your laugh. Now, what do we need to do to get out of here?"

As George talks, Fred gestures for me to sit down on the floor as he kneels down. Unfortunately, this half-baked plan involves me being sprawled out on the trophy room. I am mostly sure that Fred and George are winging it at this point. However, I have a vague inclination that they had a sense of how they wanted this to go, and had planned for contingencies. Meanwhile, Lee checks on the metelojinx. It seemed they still had hope that they would get to use it tonight. Sometimes I wonder if the sorting hat considered placing Fred and George in Slytherin. My brothers are ambitious with their dreams of creating and running a successful joke shop. They are also conniving with all of their …. extracurriculars, and experiments. They have this really annoying habit of deducing what you will do before you know yourself. Though, I suppose that is a necessary skill to have when you are a master practical joker. But I can't really picture them as Slytherins. They are so egalitarian in nature, protective of others, and hot-headed when pushed. Gryffindor is a better fit for them.

"You need to listen to me," Pucey said through the door. George looked over to us at his words. Listen? That's not what we were expecting. We were thinking more along the lines of retribution, or maybe an apology it Pucey was feeling particularly forgiving. Really, it all depended on whatever Pucey's end goal was. Sadly, none of us had an inkling of what that was. "This has gotten far out of hand".

"Agreed", Lee called in the background. "Who knew sending fake letters would get someone locked in a room". Except he sounded far too gleeful to be fully in agreement. If anything, Lee sounded like he was excited to witness an exciting show. The boy needs to get out more if he thinks this is entertainment.

Pucey ignores Lee and continues to talk. "You three need to remember that we are trying to discover if it is Quirrell who is breaking into students' minds and reveal him to the authorities".

My fellow triplets and I shared looks. As Lee pipes up in the background, "Wait, you guys think you know who made Holly have a fit?" But we ignore him. Now is not the time or the place. Of course, Fred, George, and I had not forgotten about exposing Quirrell. It's just… we had a bit more information than Pucey and were looking at things from a different angle. Pucey needed to make sure no one dark learned about his past self. We were trying to prevent a war from occurring six years from now. While I needed to make sure Fred wouldn't die.

"So, this has nothing to do with Stimpson?" I asked loud enough to be heard through the door. This was not a part of Fred and George's latest plan. But I personally felt Pucey's answer could be important information.

I can hear Pucey sighing. "Weasley, no one cares about Stimpson. I'd appreciate it if you left her alone for my own sanity. But I didn't lock you in a room because of Stimpson. This felt like the only way I could get you lot to hear me out without you running away or your brothers jinxing my possessions as some sort of joke". He sounded so frustrated.

I'm glad to see we are on the same page. Fred and George snorted softly, quietly proud of Pucey's acknowledgment. Pranking Pucey had been a great source of amusement for them. I, however; am not ready to feel amused. "We already had this conversation," I said, forcefully. "Remember, in Vector's room. When you pretty much said you decided we'd get married". The second the words left my mouth, I regretted it. I should have phrased it differently. Especially with my brothers listening in.

"What?" George asked in a raised volume.

"Merlin, Holls" Fred complained. "You didn't tell us that".

"Interest, Weasley", Pucey interjects, also with a raised voice. "I merely stated my interest! Or do you like Stimpson calling you a slag?" The question was rhetorical. But I responded anyway.

"You don't get to decide those things without my consent". It is then I realized that that was the heat of the issue. Pucey had decided for us without my assent. He made a decision without me even knowing there was an 'us' to make decisions about. And like a playlist on a loop, I suddenly had a lot more to say. "Damn it, Pucey! I liked you, okay. I liked you before I knew you used to be..." But I reframed myself. Lee doesn't know about Regulus Black. No matter how upset I was, I wasn't about to out a fellow reincarnated soul to someone who didn't need to know. "I liked that I didn't have to try so hard with you to fit in with the rest of our year mates. But then you… changed. So, I started to get to know this new side of you. And I didn't mind! I thought we could do this. We could be friends. Friendly friends who might end up to be more. But then you… you do things that affect both of us without including me! I'm not going down that road again. I..I…" I stuttered off, ignoring the alarmed looks I am getting from the other Gryffindors in the room. The problem is that Lee doesn't know about my past life either. And Fred and George wouldn't know why this is such an upheaval for me, being boys. Hell, I didn't even know myself until I started to remember things. Being acquiescent didn't kill me, but it was a contributing factor. "I already did that once and it didn't end well!" Judging by the grimaces on George's and Fred's faces they knew what I was referring to. "So… So just go off with Stimpson, who won't care what you do to her", I said, even though it pained me.

There's a pause. Probably an allowance for my short monologue to sink in. And then Pucey said, "For the last time, Weasley. No one cares about Stimpson". His voice is a mixture of being taken back and annoyance. Despite this being his second life, he is still clueless about how to talk to girls. I doubted he really understood why this was such a big deal. "If all I wanted was to settle for a girl like Stimpson I wouldn't waste my time arguing with you and replying to that stupid letter. All I did was share my intentions with our schoolmates. I can't do anything without your parents' blessing. And I doubt they'll give it unless they have your blessing". His tone of voice made it very clear that he thought I was taking this out of proportion. But you tend to be more intense when a failed relationship ends with you being stabbed in the gut. "Can't we just focus on Quirrell, and if you still hate me after that then you can reject me?"

It was a thought. The problem was I didn't hate Pucey and I didn't want his presence in my life to change. "I don't hate you," I said awkwardly. I spoke loud enough to be heard through the door, but my voice wasn't as angry as before.

Fred nudges me, the same time that he gestures at George. "The plan" he silently mouths at us. It's hard to make out since our only source of light is Lumos. But we know what he means anyway. I scoffed without any heat behind the motion. Yes, the plan. We had gotten off track. But it seemed Fred had sensed a way to return to the thick of it.

George nods to show Fred he understood what he meant before he said. "You heard that Pucey, our sister doesn't hate you. So, let us out".

"I want a promise," Pucey said. "I want a promise that you won't ignore me anymore, or sic Stimpson on me, or run away when I am trying to talk to you". He didn't specify who he was talking to. But it only makes sense that all of that was directed at me.

"Oh, come on!" Lee faux complains as Fred nudges me to say my line.

I sighed. Why do a lot of our pranking exploits involve acting? I mean really, there has never been a theatrical Weasley and I don't think that is going to change anytime soon. "I feel funny", I said, trying to be loud enough to be heard but also come off as dazed. "Something's wrong".

"Holly?" George asked, attempting to feign concern as Fred grabbed my arm to get me to lie down. It is all part of the plan. But I have a hard time getting behind any plan that involves me lying on the floor.

"Holly!" Lee cried, sounding panicked. He is a lot more talented than us Weasleys.

As Fred draped my numb arm over my stomach, George yelled "Pucey! Something's wrong with Holly. You need to unlock the door!"

Pucey lets out a loud scoff. "Do try harder, Weasley. I thought you three would be better a deception".

At the same time as Pucey is talking, Fred shifts next to me. In a whisper, he asked, "Ready, Holls?"

"This is a stupid plan", I said, frowning up at him.

"Which is why you have the easiest part", Fred countered. "Close your eyes".

With an eye roll and an exasperated sigh, I listen to Fred and let my body relax. Adrian bloody Pucey. I can't believe he locked us in the trophy room to get us to stop fighting. I can't believe that he thought I hated him. Maybe, I shouldn't have sent that first letter. Even if it was funny to see Stimpson looking like a fire hydrant.

The next line is Fred's. "Holly" he yelled like I had just been snatched from him. "George! Holly just collapsed. She's not moving!"

That was George's signal to continue. He banged on the doors again. "Open the door! Our sister needs help!" He sounded frantic.

"Write me a letter and I might consider it," Pucey said through the door. His self-satisfaction leaked into the air. It made me wonder how long he knew about the forged letters.

"Holly!" Fred cried loudly. "Holly! George, she's not breathing!"

"It must've happened right after she tried to use magic to unlock the door" Lee chimed in perfectly executive panic. Honestly, we should probably be taking acting lessons from Lee.

That renewed George's desperate banging on the doors. "Pucey! This isn't a joke anymore. Please!"

There's no way Pucey was going to fall for this. After all, the timing is far too suspicious. Though I am taken back when a loud click echoes throughout the trophy room and the doors squeak open. "That shouldn't have happened", I heard Pucey say as hurried footsteps echoed. In a few seconds, he sounded closer. There was a thump as if someone dropped to their knees beside me. "It should have just numbed the person how tried to open it. Unless I grabbed the wrong lock…" His voice was strained with worry. I started to feel a twinge of guilt. It's funny when Pucey is annoyed. But the same cannot be said when he is scared.

"What did you do?" Fred accused. "What did you do to my sister?" This gave Lee time to move over to the doors with George.

Cold, calloused fingertips brushed my jawline. It was a struggle to stay completely lifeless. "This shouldn't be possible". Pucey struggled to say. "I didn't use anything dangerous". His voice broke at the end. "I don't understand…" Pucey stopped his train of thought when he pressed his chilled palm to my cheek. "I" He paused, as if unsure of what he wanted to say. "I didn't plan for this to happen. I just wanted to get us back on the right path". Slowly, I feel Pucey slide his hand from my cheek to the underside of my nose. Pucey paused. When he spoke again, the change in Pucey's tone was immediate. "Not breathing", he said sardonically to Fred.

"It got you to open the door", Fred said, unrepentant. I cracked up my eyes to see Fred gleaming at Pucey, as Pucey glared at Fred. With his hand still in contact with my face, I could feel Pucey shaking. Pucey looked away from Fred and down at me. Our eyes met and it felt like an ice cube melting. But the tightly wound up tension in Pucey's body did not lessen.

"Weasley", Pucey snarled at me as I sat up. Fred took this opportunity to climb to his feet. Pucey places his hands on my shoulders and shakes me once. "Stop toying with my emotions. I thought I had actually harmed you!"

I am spared to answer when Fred breaks in. "I have to admit, Pucey. I wasn't sure you cared". In an act of random solemnness, Fred placed a hand on Pucey's shoulder. Much like how Pucey is currently holding my shoulders. Pucey stares at Fred's hand, his expression unsure. He didn't know if he should be repulsed or weary. "I think I was wrong about you". Fred admitted, sounding like Pucey had just passed some test. What was Fred doing? The moment is surprised one, that neither Pucey nor I knew what to do with. But it ends very quickly. "Time to go!" Fred declared with none of his earlier seriousness. With an act of sudden force, he pushes Pucey on top of me, sending us both crashing unto the floor and over the point that would activate the metelojinx.

"What are you doing?" I called after Fred who had turned tail and ran. The whole trophy room rumbled in rolls of thunder. "This wasn't a part of the plan!" I yelled as Pucey struggled to find his feet.

Fred pauses at the door and looks back at Pucey and me with Fred and George already standing on the other side. "It's a part of the plan now," he said, with a mischievous smirk. The first raindrops start to fall. "Besides, we wanted insider knowledge". Fred finished as he stepped out of the trophy room.

"You'll have to tell us how the metelojinx worked," George said before he and Lee closed the double doors. Those gits. They actually put me in a room, alone with Pucey and a raging storm jinx. Traitors.

"Weasley!" Pucey shouted as he stood up, right be the downpour and raindrops splattered against the stone floor of the trophy room. Already soaked, I pushed myself off of the ground with my arm that isn't numb. Pucey waited until I was standing in front of him before asking, "What, in Merlin's name, was that all about?" Another roar of thunder rebounds off of the walls. Drenched, with water seeping into my shoes, I look down and pinched the bridge of my nose. This was not how I imagined this night going. It started as a small huff, then a strained giggle. And soon I was full out laughing in a manic fashion. Those gits. I don't think they've realized what they've done. When I don't answer him, Pucey grabs my shoulders again in efforts to get me to focus. "Why are you laughing?" He sounded very affronted by this whole exchange.

Making eye contact, it takes me a minute to reign in my unintended amusement. "I'm sorry", I said staring into his fierce grey gaze. "This got out of hand".

Pucey's expression is incredulous. "You think?" He asked sarcastically. I looked at him. I really looked at him. His eyes were stormy like the ceiling of the trophy room. Water droplets dribbled off of the nose and tip of his eyelashes. It sort of reminds me of one of the 'caught in the rain' scenes from a Nicholas Sparks movie. That is if the characters were in the middle of a fight during those scenes.

In a wave of teenage hormones and a desire to reconcile, I lunged forward and swing my working arm around Pucey's neck as I collided with his chest. If both my arms were mobile, I would have used both of them to hug him. Pucey lets out an "oomph" sound at the unexpected contact. I had officially crossed the line I had been wary of approaching since the beginning of the year. Instinctually, Pucey wraps his arms around my waist, if only to keep us both from losing our balance.

"Adrian," I said, tentatively, his first name feeling weird on my tongue. Pucey tenses at the sound of his name. I can count the number of times I have called him by his first name on one hand. "Can we give this another chance?"

He's quiet for a moment. The only thing we can hear is the thundering and rainfall of a thunderstorm. Pucey's grip around my waist tightens, and he says softly next to my ear "yes". We hold out position or a moment longer before Pucey breaks. "Let's get out of here".

We don't make it far. Just outside of the door stands a pleased-as-punch Filch with a fist full of Fred and George's robes in each hand. Lee stands to George's left with an expression of resigned trouble. While Fred and George did not look put off with being in Filch's clutches at all. At this point, this experience is old news to them. "How it works?" George asked, despite the painful grip Filch had on him.

I gesture to Pucey's and my soaked forms. Did he really have to ask? And was now really the time?

Fred snickered. "I'd say it went pretty well, George".

Filch did not allow my brothers to fall into their normal banter. "Miscreants". He said, making the word sound like a swear. But with his gleaming yellow teeth on show, it seemed that Filch was reveling in catching us in the act of mischief. "Five first-years, two-love birds, and the demon spawn all caught out of bed after hours". He said sleazily. "what a night". I knew who he was referring to when he said love-birds and demon spawn. But, what first-years?


	27. Erroneous Timeline

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Erroneous Timeline

This was destined to be the detentions of all detention. It was a detention that we should have no part in. And yet here we are, thanks to our own stupidity. Or my stupidity, because I am supposed to know when things happen. At least things regarding the golden trio. Fred and George flanked my sides as we walked out of the castle and started the trek to Hagrid's hut. Each of us had our perspective hats on our heads. The air was cold and crisp. The usual fare for an early spring night in Scotland. In the original detention, the detention from the first book, it would have been slightly warmer. Since it was supposed to happen sometime after the Easter Holidays! Not now. Something must have happened to skew the timeline. But what? The biggest thing we changed was Pettigrew, but theoretically, that shouldn't have any effect until year three and Harry's summer vacations. We hadn't done anything to Philosopher's Stone storyline. At least, not yet.

I shivered and scrunched up my shoulders as we trailed after Filch and his glowing lantern. Lee walked ahead of us. He had the four of the five first years in hand. Trying to convince them that just because we were going into the forbidden forest didn't mean they were in danger. His line of logic is that the creatures in the forbidden forest preferred munching on Slytherins rather than Gryffindors. However, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione were not convinced. That was another change. In this version of events, Ron had not been bitten by Hagrid's baby dragon. So, he did not end up in the hospital wing. Meaning that he participated in getting the dragon to Charlie's friends for its delivery to Romania. It was a hard fact to stomach. My baby brother was marching into something I didn't want him anywhere near. Hell, the three of us were marching off somewhere I didn't want any of us to be near. I sighed, Damn it all. Another thing was that Malfoy was no longer the only Slytherin on this expedition. Thanks to me, Pucey was also serving detention. He walked behind Filch and in front of Lee and the Gryffindor first-years. Malfoy was practically hanging onto his robes, though he was trying to be subtle about it. Pucey appeared to be annoyed. I'd be too if I had to listen to Filch go on and on about the good old days when he could hang students by their toes, and put up with Malfoy crying about potential werewolf encounters. Lee's comments weren't helping in that aspect. The only reason why I wasn't annoyed, was because I knew what was potentially waiting within the tree line. The timeline was different now. So, maybe Quirrell wouldn't be out and about tonight to feed his parasite. But I couldn't be sure. I was also worried about Adrian. The golden trio didn't have any important knowledge in their heads yet, so we weren't concerned about their minds being broken into. Fred, George, and I have our impenetrable hats. But Adrian, occlumency skills or not, had information that was better kept under wraps.

Hagrid was waiting for us outside of his hut. He had his crossbow slung across his shoulders, and Fang panting at his side. "Bout time," Hagrid said once Filch was in hearing distance. Us students stopped away behind him. This was defiantly different that the type of manual labor we usually get assigned in detention. I wondered what the logic was behind punishing students by sending them into an out-of-bounds area. Probably a plot device in all honesty. "I wanted to get started earlier" Hagrid went on to explain as he took his time looking at each of us. He didn't linger on the Slytherins. But he nodded in the direction of Lee, myself, and my triplets before turning to his favorite students. "Ron, Hermione, Harry, all right?" he asked the Gryffindor first-years but left out Neville. I think this might actually be Neville's first experience with Hagrid. I wasn't terribly sure. But judging by the state of Neville's shaking form, I don't think he minds not being included with his classmates.

However, Filch was not pleased with Hagrid's common curtsies. "Don't be friendly with this lot, Hagrid", Filch reprimanded the half-giant. "They're here to be punished".

But Hagrid had his own thoughts on the matter. "You were late 'cause you've been lecturin' them. It's not your place".

If there was one thing Fred, George, and I knew it was that Filch hated to be told about what he could and couldn't do. Instead of replying to Hagrid, Filch turned to sneer at all of us students. "I'll be back at first light". His yellow teeth gleamed in the dim light of his lantern. "For what's left of them," he said before walking past us and towards the castle.

Hagrid sighed, with a shake of his big beard at the caretaker's retreating back. But he didn't show his disapproval for long. "A'right you lot, come over here for a second. And I'll tell you what we're doin'".

All of us Gryffindors and Pucey had no trouble stepping closer to the gatekeeper. Although Neville was shaking something fierce. If we weren't about to enter the forbidden forest, I would have accused the boy of having low blood sugar. Malfoy stayed put, almost with a dejected sort of expression when Pucey left him so easily. It kind of made me wonder what Malfoy would have turned out like if he had an older sibling. Probably still egocentric, and arrogant, but maybe not as spoiled. With Pucey looking anywhere but at him, Malfoy turned to Hagrid. "I'm not going in there", he declared with panic leaking into his Slytherin bravado. In front of me, I caught Harry and Ron exchanging pleased looks. It probably felt like karma that the boy that turned them in feared this detention.

But Hagrid had spent all his patience on Filch. "If you're not comin' go and pack". He said to Malfoy. "Correct your wrong, or leave Hogwarts".

Malfoy had a look on his face like he wanted to argue further. But Pucey was shooting him a look over his shoulder. One that actually had the younger Slytherin straightening his spine. Curious. Cowed, Malfoy looked down before he scurried a couple of steps to Pucey's side. Pucey sighed but didn't say anything as we all looked back at Hagrid.

"Right the", Hagrid said, all business. "listen up, 'cause it's dangerous and I don't want no one takin' risks". If he looked directly at Fred and George when he said that, no one reacted. This detention did seem counterintuitive. Hagrid had spent the last three years chasing Fred, George, and Lee away from the forbidden forest, and now he was letting them go in as some sort of punishment. Holding his lantern away from his body and in the direction of the treeline, Hagrid directed our line of sight. "See that silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. Somethin' been hunting unicorns. I found one dead a couple of days ago. So, we're gonna try to find the poor thing and do what we can".

Neville gulped loudly, but we all ignored it. "What if whatever is hunting unicorns finds us first?" Ron asked. He was standing next to Harry, but slowly twitching backward, where George was standing. That was the thing about Fred's, George's, and Ron's relationship. Fred and George teased and messed with Ron mercilessly, but when it came to outside threats, they were good big brothers. And Ron knew that.

"You'll be fine" Hagrid assured. Or at least, he tried to assure. "As long as you stick to the paths". He looked at each of us as if coming up with a plan of action on the spot. "We're gonna form groups. And follow different paths. It's a good thing, I suppose, you older students being here. We can 'ave one-third year to every first year. Let's see" Hagrid muttered to himself as he surveyed us. "We'll keep the Slytherins together". Malfoy looked pleased; Adrian looked like he would have preferred to go into the forbidden forest alone. "Ron with Jordan, I think", Hagrid continued without sparing the two housemates another look.

I stepped forward on the last one. I would prefer it if Ron stayed with me or Fred and George. Cannon wise, Ron wasn't supposed to be here in the first place, and I'd never be able to look Mum in the eyes if I got her youngest son killed by a monster in the forbidden forest. But Fred grabbed my arm and held me back. "Don't embarrass him", he whispered in my ear.

"At least, not in front of Malfoy", George chimed in as he whispered into my other ear. And they were right, even if I didn't like it.

At my pained expression, Fred whispered, "Lee's not going to let anything happen".

"Misters Weasleys can partner with Hermione and Neville", Hagrid said, unaware of my inner turmoil. "And that leaves Miss Weasley with Harry". Hagrid nodded, proud of himself. He probably never had to manage this many students before. I suppose it was good practice before he comes a professor Ron's third year. Hagrid squared Fred and George with a contemplative look as he thought through his plan. "You four", he said after a moment, gesturing to Hermione, Neville, Fred, George. "Will come with me". Hagrid turned his whole body towards Lee and Ron. "You two will walk the perimeter of the tree line. See if the unicorn has wandered out of the forest". That made me feel better. Perhaps Ron wouldn't have to enter the forest until his second year after all. Ron didn't seem all too thrilled to go off with Lee. Not that he has had many experiences with Fred and George's best friend, but just the fact that he was their friend was probably enough to cause his apprehension. Hagrid nods his head to the rest of us. "That leaves you four to take the other path". Us four referring to Malfoy, Pucey, Harry, and myself.

Of course, Malfoy wasn't happy with the arrangement. "Then, I want Fang to come with us". He said, gesturing to the boarhound.

Hagrid shrugged. "Alright. But you should know, he's a coward".

* * *

Our three groups separated not long after. We had directions to send up red sparks if we ran into anything amiss or any trouble. The third-years were also tasked with keeping an eye on the first-years. There wasn't much time to dwell on what was awaiting us in the forest if there was anything at all. As lee and Ron started to walk away with their wands alit, I called after them with a little bit of panic seeping into my voice. "Lee?" I couldn't help it. Ron wasn't supposed to be here. Neither was any of us third-years, but still. Fred and George have skills they can use to keep themselves safe, and they knew what could be in the forest. Ron was just learning magic, and clueless.

Lee looked over his shoulder at the sound of his name. His dark eyes found mine, and he smiled. 'I got this' he mouthed, before turning back around and slinging his wand free arm over Ron's shoulders. Even though Ron immediately tried to throw the older boy off him, it did make me feel better. Thanks, Lee. I thought as I turned to my own group. "Stay on the path" Hagrid reminded us as he led his group in the opposite direction. Fred and George each had a first-year underwing.

"Right," I said, with my heart leaping in my throat as I looked down at Harry. The first-year Gryffindor had moved closer to my side when we had started to split up. I pulled the pink Sherlock Holmes hat down until it was a snug fit. At least I had this to protect me. If Quirrell and you-know-how were really out there, poor Adrian had nothing to protect him. But it's best not to focus on that. "Stay close to me, yeah?" I asked Harry. Of course, it would be my luck that I'd get paired with the first-year that attracts trouble. But I would do what I could to keep him out of harm's way. Even though, that is probably impossible.

Harry gave me a half-smile and nodded as he looked up at me. He had his wand clenched in his right hand, and other than looking a little pale, Harry was unshaken. This kid. No self-preservation. Pucey leads the way with Fang on his heels, with his wand raised to allow Lumos to light our path. He was probably only leading to keep Malfoy from clinging to his robes. "Weasley", he called over his shoulder, ignoring the younger students. "Keep up". This was going to be a long night.

* * *

This is wizard hell. There's no other way to describe it. Trouncing through the forbidden forest in the middle of the night in the company of Pucey, Malfoy, and Harry was never how I wanted to spend my time. Malfoy couldn't take more than three steps without throwing barbed words at Harry and I. None of his comments are very original. All of his comments involving Harry had to do with his scar or the fame Harry didn't want. And he seemed to be under the impression that I was some sort of gold-digger. Lucky for Harry and me, Pucey had no patience for Malfoy. "Malfoy", he hissed after only a few steps into the forest. He turned around, with Lumos lighting up his face in a frightening way. "We are walking through a forest full of magical beasts in the middle of the night. A forest that contains something fast and smart enough to kill a unicorn. So, for the love of Merlin, keep your mouth shut and focus on our surroundings!" He sounded like a territorial alley cat.

Harry and I looked at each other and stifled our sniggers. It was a treat for the both of us to see Malfoy get a tongue lashing from another student. The boy did seem completely startled by Adrian's reprimand. I doubt he has ever had an equal take him in hand like that before. Though, I guess Pucey really isn't his equal. He is an upperclassman after all. "About time" Harry muttered to me. And I had to hold back more than just sniggers. It looked like sassy Harry did exist during his first year. Based on the books, I thought we wouldn't see that side of him until his third year. I ended up bending at the waist and holding my stomach in the effort to keep quiet. To laugh out loud now, might just undo all of Adrian's hard work and cause Malfoy to open his mouth again.

"Weasley", Pucey barked in the same tone of voice he had used on Malfoy. My laughter died in my throat and I straightened up immediately. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Pucey was a drill sergeant in his past life. However, when I looked up at him, Adrian was looking off into the forest. Giving me a good look at his slightly red cheeks. "You and Potter should walk closer to with the rest of us". He muttered; his voice transformed from one for consternation to one of reluctant concern. Aww, he does care.

Coughing a little, I used a free hand to push Harry closer to the Slytherins. "Sure", I agreed; feeling my face heat up. For a moment, the only sounds were Fang's panting and the wind running through the trees of the forbidden forest as the two first-years stared at us third-years in turn. It took Adrian abruptly turning around and walking down the path to end that little moment. Malfoy followed close behind, almost getting tangled with Fang.

It seems that we weren't quite over our spat and make-up session in the trophy room. I wonder how long it would be until we stopped being awkward around each other. Harry and I followed a step behind Malfoy, walking a lot closer to the others than we were before. "Holly", Harry whispered at me as we wandered deeper into the forest. I hummed at him to tell him that he could continue. "Are you… Are you two dating?"

I almost stopped walking again. A part of me wanted to deny it. Reflexively, I wanted to refuse that there was even a chance that Pucey and I could be anything other than friends. But another part of me recognized a golden opportunity to mess with the boy who lived. "It's much worse than that, I'm afraid". I said as if I was delivering news of a departed loved one. "Pucey's under the impression that we are unofficially engaged". Harry's green eyes widened marginally, but he didn't say anything. Though when he looked forward and stared at Pucey's back, I think he was looking at the older Slytherin in a new light.

We must have walked for another hour, deeper and deeper into the forbidden forest, before Harry spotted silvery blood. His wand free hand reached out and tugged on my robe sleeve. "Look," he said, also drawing the attention of the others.

"It seems to be a trail". Adrian reasoned once he caught on to what Harry was seeing. His comment leads us to see more splashes of silver, shining blood. Thicker splashes of blood. At a standstill, we follow the spots of blood to a larger, gleaming white object lying on the forest floor. Gulping, Adrian inched forward, with the rest of us on his trail. It only took a few inches and then we could make out the form of a dead unicorn. My breath hitched at the sight as my eyes started to moisten. It was the saddest thing I had ever seen. Not even my own death was this awful. How could something so beautiful, so pure, so innocent just be slain like this?

"Are you crying?" Malfoy accused me. But his voice was so high pitched, I think he was just trying to push his feelings off on me.

"I'm a girl, and there's a dead unicorn right in front of me. I am allowed to cry". I said as Harry took a cautious step forward before, I could stop him. He made it past Adrian before anyone, including Fang, noticed the hooded figure slithering out of the shadows and over the Unicorn's corpse. Craaap! I drawled out in my head as shivers shoot up my spine. Any hope I had of this timeline being different vanished as the cloaked figure swept over the corpse and lowered its head so that it might consume the unicorn's blood. This was so much more gruesome to see in person than it was to read about in the books. My stomach turned at the sight. Especially, as I thought about how Quirrell's body must be bending in order for him to be able to allow you-know-who to drink. Was Quirrell a contortionist?

A lot of things happened at once before I was able to move again. Harry let out a bloodcurdling scream as he staggered backward into Pucey. Meanwhile, Draco let out a terrified yelp and bolted with Fang following suit. Not that I expected the Malfoy heir to do anything different. In the original story, a centaur would have come to our aid. But this time, the cloaked figure rose, with silver blood dripping out from under its hood. It started to glide towards us at a pace that my agitated heartbeat. With a tremor in my hand, I raised my wand and set off a series of red sparks. I used my free hand to reach out to the first-year. "H-harry" I called when I realized that I was too far away to grab the boy. But Harry continued to scream. His scar was probably burning too much for him to regain his senses.

Adrian, at least, still had his senses to him. He grabbed Harry by his hunched over shoulders and hauled the boy back. It seemed just a little more distance between Harry and you-know-who was all that was needed for Harry to stop screaming. "Get out of here", Adrian yelled at Harry and me. "Let's head back to the grounds!". He was making a logical decision; run and live another day. Unfortunately, Adrian's interference only served to draw attention to himself. Once Harry was out of his Arms, Adrian gasped and clutched his head with both hands. Despite his wand being in one of his hands.

"Adrian!" I called, as Harry ran to me, face twisted in pain.

But Pucey didn't respond to me. He turned so his back was no longer facing the hooded figure. "Get out of my head", He growled.

My eyes widen. No. I thought we were done with all of this. The hooded figure glided closer to Adrian to the point that there were about ten feet between them. "Harry, run and find help!" I yelled at the first-year as I pushed him in the direction we had come from. I had set up red sparks. So, maybe he would run into Hagrid, if not Firenze. But Harry didn't move.

"Black" you-know-who rasped in a malicious hiss. What did he say? "Regulus Black". My blood ran cold. So, you-know-who was able to piece together the images he had seen of Pucey's past life. And he knew. Knew that Regulus had betrayed him. I had to do something. Leaving Harry, I run a couple of steps forward with my shaking wand raised. However, I had no idea what I should cast.

"Leave him alone". I yelled at Quirrell. Because in my mind, that was all I could allow the cloaked figure to be. If I was honest with myself and allowed myself to recognize you-know-who for who he was, I wouldn't have been able to yell at him. Briefly, I glanced back at Adrian. A small stream of blood was trickling down his nose, and his expression was vacant. Did you-know-who already get past his occlumency shields? "Adrian" I yelled at him. "Try to push him out!" Of course, I don't actually know how occlumency works so my words were useless to him. If he could even hear me.

"Traitor", the hooded figure hissed as it slowly inched closer. "Regulus Black you betrayed me". And Adrian dropped until he was a crumpled heap on the forest floor. In a matter of seconds, he started to convulse, looking like a puppet that was having its strings jerked in an unforgiving manner.

"Adrian!" I yelled again. However, I knew what I needed to do once I finished yelling. Adrian didn't have a hat. He didn't have an impenetrable hat to keep you-know-who from shredding his mind to bits. Despite my instincts screaming at me not to do so, I turned away from the hooded figure and dropped to my knees beside the seizing boy. Behind us, Harry was still standing by, watching. "Go get help", I yelled at him again before I ripped my ridiculous pink hat off of my head and jammed it on Adrian's head. It took a moment, but he stilled and lay like a log amongst the fallen leaves of the forest.

"Holly", he croaked in a worn voice as confused eyes studied my face in the dark. At the moment he was probably unsure if he was Adrian or Regulus. But at least he was no longer convulsing. My relief was short-lived. It started with a flash of memory. Jessie stood in front of a full-length mirror running a brush through her hair. And then I was back on in the forbidden forest. Hunched over Pucey. But, who am I? Was my name Holly or Jessie? Another flash, and there's Jessie in the arms of some man, their faces pressed together. Stop! Stop! I yelled in my head. But it did no good. Holly helping Mum in the kitchen. Jessie taking fresh muffins out of an oven. Holly sharing her class notes with Pucey in the hallway. Knife. Jessie painting her toenails in her living room. Blood dripping off the knife. It came to a point that everything was so jumbled the only things I could remember or focus on was searing pain and blood… blood…blood…


	28. A string of Visitors

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A string of Visitors

When I regained consciousness two identical faces were looming over my own. Their eyes were glistening in a mixture of fear and exasperation that promised retribution. Oh, Merlin. Can I go back to sleep?

"You little idiot," said Fred.

"We made you that hat to keep you safe," said George.

"You were not supposed-"

"to share it with someone else!" My brothers scolded me.

I blinked up at them with heavy feeling eyes. They were…mad. As apparent by their creased foreheads, and lack of mischief in their eyes. But why were they mad? Did I forget to help test one of their products again? And what is this about a hat? When no obvious answer popped out at me, I settled for asking, "Did Mum already make breakfast?"

Though Fred and George exchanged a look, so it probably wasn't the right thing to say. "Holls", George drawled slowly. "Where do you think you are right now?"

I frowned up at them. That's a weird question. Where else would we be if not at the Burrow? "In your and Fred's room" I answered.

Someone snorted. And it wasn't Fred or George. I turned my head on the pillow to look past Fred. Laying in the bed next to mine, was Pucey. He was lying on his side, facing me and my brothers. What was he doing here? "Wake up in your brothers' room often, do you?" Pucey asked. His voice was sounded rougher than usual. As if his throat was raw. We were doing… something last night, but what?

As thoughts continued to tumble around in my head, I responded with "Haven't you learned yet, Pucey? We're codependent". My throat felt scratchy, and I wished for some water. But it would have to wait. I look back up at Fred and George who were still staring at me. As if Adrian had never spoken. "We're not at home". I self-corrected. Fred and George nodded. "we're at school". I spoke slowly, and my brothers nodded again. "And Mum isn't here".

"No, Mum's here," Fred said.

That had me frowning. Mum at school? Did we finally manage to get expelled? I thought we had at least another four years before Fred and George leave their academic pursuits behind. And Mum didn't come to school then. Of course, there wasn't time for her to come to school. "Why?" I asked.

Fred snorted and looked away from me as if in pain. George shifted until he was pressing a warm hand against my cheek, directing my eyes to focus on him. His palm felt warm, and I found myself leaning into it. "You are really out of it". He told me. Out of it? I guess. Honesty, it just feels like I had a little too much to drink the night before. Which I know is not the case. In my life as Holly, I have sadly not had a single drop of booze.

With a deep breath, Fred looked back at me as George withdrew his hand. My face felt cold as soon as he pulled away. "Jolly Holly, you had a fit in the forbidden forest. Of course, they told our parents". And then it started coming back to me. The ill-fated detention. Splitting up from my brothers. Harry asking if Adrian and I were dating. And then there was the dead unicorn and you-know-who. I had given Adrian my hat to keep you-know-who out of his mind. And now it looked like I was in the hospital wing…. Bullocks.

Something in my eyes must have reflected my understanding because Fred and George breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed their posture And here I had always thought that I was the low maintenance triplet. "Dad's here too" George added on.

"And so is Adrian Black's parents," Fred said, jabbing a thumb in Pucey's direction.

"Don't call me that," Pucey said in the background, but he sounded resigned.

"We don't know if everyone's parents were informed" George continued. "But I think Harry's Godfather is here as well".

At the mention of Sirus Black, I found myself automatically turning my head in Pucey's direction. He was still pale, and his eyes had widened at the mention of his brother from a past life. That was another thing that had happened in the forest. You-know-who had called Adrian, Regulus. He called him Regulus Black in front of Harry. I wonder if Harry has pieced everything together yet. If he hasn't, I am sure Hermione will be able to help him as so as he tells her and Ron everything that happened. If he hasn't already. Either way, I think Adrian's life is about to get more complicated. Giving Pucey time to sort out his thoughts, I look back at my brothers. "What time is it?" I asked. Trying to decipher how much time had passed since we were in the forest. "How did we make it back to the castle?"

My brothers exchanged another look. Unknowingly building anticipation. "Well", George started. "It's a little after 3:00 in the morning".

"We all got here at about 2:00," Fred said. "Hagrid saw the red sparks and took off running in your direction. Told us to get Neville and Hermione out of the forest and wait by his hut."

"Lee and Ron were already waiting when we made it out. So, we knew it had to be you and Harry".

"Malfoy made it out next with Hagrid's dog".

"The little git left you three there. He said that a vampire was eating a unicorn". Though, the pointed look Fred gave me told me he knew exactly what Malfoy had seen.

"It was probably a half-hour before Hagrid came out of the forest with you lot".

"He was carrying you," George said, nodding at me. "You weren't moving, and when you were close enough to make out the blood under your nose, we worked out what must have happened". Right, when I gave Adrian my hat, I had, metaphorically speaking, taken you-know-who's chew toy away from him. My mind was probably broken into in retaliation. I shivered and buried deeper in the clean starch sheets that are used in the hospital wing. Now that I was thinking about it, I was feeling phantom pains in my abdomen. I'm holly, I thought; feeling the urge to remind myself of that fact. Holly is alive. I am Holly, and Jessie is dead.

"And this one was draped over the back of a Centaur", Fred said, gesturing to the Slytherin in the bed behind him. I was pleased to hear some of his usual mirth back in his voice. "Harry was sitting behind him trying his best to keep Pucey from falling off!"

I look away from my brothers to stare at Pucey. Some color had returned to his cheeks. Probably at the mention of the centaur. But he ignored Fred to continue with the story. "I maintained consciousness a little longer than you did". Adrian said. The fact that he had my hat remains unmentioned. "Potter didn't run as you told him to. Instead, once you collapsed, he jumped between us and that… that thing". Adrian shook his head as if he couldn't get the image out of his head. "As if there was actually anything he could do". Adrian locked eyes with me. "We got lucky. I'm not sure how or why, but a Centaur charged in and forced that thing away from us". Whenever Adrian said 'that thing', his voice paused before he put great emphasis on the word. You-know-who had called him out by his past life's name. Called him a traitor. Adrian must have pieced it together who that was in the forest. Or at least think it was one of you-know-who's followers. I wondered why he was holding his tongue. I would have to probe this further. But not now. My head felt too heavy to do much of anything right now. "I passed out soon after" Adrian concluded. So, if I wanted to learn what happened next I would have to talk to Harry.

Nodding sluggishly at Adrian, I turn back to my fellow triplets. "So, where are Mum and Dad?" Because last time I had a seizure, I woke up to Mum hovering over me. I would have thought that she would have done so again.

Adrian answered before either of my brothers could. "They're with my parents, arguing with the Headmaster", Pucey supplied before Fred and George explained further.

"Mum was livid," Fred said.

"It was strange to see her so angry when it wasn't directed at us", George added.

"Her and Dad came here first to make sure you were still breathing and all of us were alright".

"Mum made them wake up Percy and bring him down here so he could watch Ron, Hermione, Harry, Neville, and Ginny". George looked at Fred with a grim expression. We all knew what it meant when Mum sent us from a room or passed the younger Weasleys off to the older ones. She was planning on saying things that she didn't want us to hear.

"Ginny must be thrilled" I commented. Ginny had spent all last summer complaining about how unfair it was that she didn't get to go to Hogwarts. That was an easier thing to focus on than what Mum could possibly be saying to Dumbledore and probably Hagrid and our head of houses.

Fred and George snorted without any humor. "She was asleep when we saw her," Fred said. "Dad was carrying her".

"Passed her off to Percy still asleep too. We think he took her and the first-years to the common room. Lee was helping him. Mum said we could stay here with you. She didn't want you to wake up alone". George finished. I hummed at them and closed my eyes. Things were probably out of our hands at this point. We'd have to wait for Adrian and me to get out of the hospital wing before we could regroup. At the moment, all I wanted to think about was Percy's expression when he was woken in the middle of the night and got saddled with four traumatized first-years and our baby sister with only Lee Jordan to help.

* * *

It definitely was a sight to see. The double doors of the hospital wing slammed open; the sound bouncing off the stone walls. The sound caused Fred and George to flinch. While Adrian and I struggled into an upright position. Charging into the room was Mum and Mrs. Pucey. They were in the lead with their husbands following in their wake. Mum was wearing her night robe, probably fastened over her nightgown. She had on one of her knitted caps on top of her head with her graying red hair shooting out in all angles. Her eyes were wide with a fierce glint gleaming in her pupils. Instinctively, the look had me hunching my shoulders. Mum's crazy eyes were the only thing she had in common with Adrian's mum. While Mum had clearly come to Hogwarts straight from bed, Mistress Pucey had changed into daytime clothes. She was wearing a long gray dress with a green velvet cloak clasped around her shoulders. Her ebony hair was pinned up on top of her head. Her appearance made me wonder if she had gone to bed at all last night.

"Holly!" Mum exclaimed when she saw that I was awake. I blinked once, and Mum was suddenly at my side. Forcing Fred to move away in the process. He walked to the other side of the bed to join George. Mum pulls me into her embrace before I can get a word in. Her hold is warm and familiar, and I appreciate it. But then, I got an idea.

I waited for Mum to finish hugging me. When she let me go far enough so she could rest her palm on my cheek, I knew what I wanted to say. During all of Mum's fussing, Dad had made his way over. Like Mum, he was dressed in his nightclothes and bathrobe. He stood on the other side of my hospital bed behind Fred and George; an arm over each of their shoulders. "Umm…" I said slowly. Trying to sound dazed. "Who are you?" I felt Mum tense as soon as the words left my mouth. "Where am I? And who's Holly?" Mum's face paled considerably as her eyes scanned my face. Probably searching for some sign of head injury. Inwardly, I was laughing. When she realized this was a joke, Mum would kill me. When she couldn't see anything telling on my face, Mum shot a panicked look to Dad.

"Arthur," she said, stressed.

Still, with his arms around my fellow triplets, Dad leaned closer. "Holly Girl", he said; using my childhood nickname to direct my attention to him. Fred and George had their lips pressed together in a thin line and they were refusing to look at me. Of course, they knew this was a ruse. As troublemaking triplets, we had a pact to not spoil each other's fun whenever possible. They were trying their hardest not to laugh and give me away. "Can you tell me who I am?" Dad's voice was soft and gentle. Like the time I was five and he was trying to coax me into eating stewed spinach.

"Holly?" I repeated as if the syllables were foreign to my tongue. "My name is Jessie". Mum's hold on me tightened, and Dad seemed to blanched. While Fred and George were turning red in the face; they were restraining themselves so hard. At a snail's pace, I looked around the room. "Where am I?"

"Fascinating" Dad said, despite the fear laced in his tone. "You said Jessie was the name of her past life as a muggle?" Dad asked Mum, who nodded her answer.

"What do we do?" Mum asked.

But Dad had something else on his mind. "Holly", he said to draw my attention back. "um... Jessie. Can you tell me how washing machines work?"

"Arthur!" Mum scolded.

I blinked a couple of times as I tried to come up with a response. But with one look at my brothers, and I just couldn't. They looked like they were choking on laughter. I started to laugh myself. "I just can't". I began to say. "I can't respond to that". My break in character gave Fred and George all the permission they needed. Leaning into Dad they let everything out. Laughter drawing the attention of the Puceys and everyone else who had entered the room behind our parents. I looked back at Mum. "Hi Mum", I said in my normal voice.

It only took Mum a split second to catch on. When she did, she gave me her best stern look; however, the relief in her eyes was the most apparent. "Holly Agatha Weasley! Are you trying to send me to an early grave!" With a humph, Mum pulled me back in for another hug. If this one was a little rougher than the last, I didn't comment.

* * *

"It is good to see that the children are well". Dumbledore broke in after our reunions with our parents stretched on for a bit longer. He was not the only member of the Hogwarts staff in the room. Standing behind his left and right shoulders were McGonagall and Snape. Made sense. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin had collapsed during detention. Our head-of-houses should be available to communicate with our parents. But it made me wonder where Hagrid was. He was the adult supervising the detention. You'd think he here to deal with the fallout.

However, when Dumbledore spoke, it was like opening up the floodgates. Mum turned to face the man, without letting go of my shoulders. "They shouldn't have been in that position in the first place!" The tone Mum was using with Dumbledore had me taken back. Both Mum and Dad were Dumbledore supporters. They agreed with his politics and trusted his judgment. But perhaps Mum had been pushed too far this time.

Mr. Pucey seemed to agree with Mum. Standing over his wife and child like a protective shadow, he glared at Dumbledore. The age lines on his face serving as harsh contours. "Four times!" Mr. Pucey held up four fingers. "Four times this school year students have had seizures from legilimency attacks. To make matters worse, it's the same two students who were attacked previously!"

"We were promised", Mrs. Pucey started to say. Her voice was calmer than her husband's, but it possessed a sharper quality to it. "That our son would be safe from such attacks within Hogwarts after he first collapsed".

Dumbledore nodded sagely, like a customer service Rep just trying to keep his head from being chopped off. "As per your request, we did remove Adrian from his defense class. During that block, he has been working with Professor Snape in his lab". Dumbledore said with a nod in the potions master's direction. Well, that explained why I hadn't seen Adrian in Quirrell's class since the first time Adrian had a fit. "But unfortunately, we had no way of knowing that the children would be exposed to danger during their detention".

"You sent them into the forbidden forest!" Mum broke in as if she couldn't believe her ears. With a huff, Mum turned away from Dumbledore and started to pull the blankets tighter around me, and smoothing out the creases with her hands.

Dad coughed awkwardly, before saying in a composed voice. "It doesn't sound good, Professor Dumbledore. Punishing them for breaking curfew by sending them to forbidden places, also after curfew. What lesson would they learn from that? Especially when they were injured". Dad said his piece; managing to take Mum's side and stay non-confrontational. This is the same tactic he used to break up most of our childhood fights.

"I agree with Mr. Weasley". Mr. Pucey said, with a deep nod. He looked like he had more to say. But Dumbledore held up his hands.

"Please", he started. "I have heard all of your concerns in my office when we decided it would be in the best interest of your children for them to not hear our conversation. I regret that we were not able to spare them from this trauma-"

"Trauma" Mrs. Pucey spat. And she was right. Trauma wasn't exactly a strong enough word for having your mind violated and being forced to relive your death.

Dumbledore continued as if Mrs. Pucey hadn't interrupted. "But we had no way of knowing they would be attacked. All we can do now is look into how we can prevent this from happening in the future". Dumbledore spoke with absolute resolution. With Snape and McGonagall standing sentient behind him, it made a very convincing image. But not convincing enough.

Mr. Pucey scoffed. "Adrian will not be staying". His voice was unwavering.

"Father", Adrian piped up, looking ready to disagree. However, he's silenced when his mum rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Our son", His mum said, her words were directed at the headmaster even though she was staring at Adrian. "Will not attend Hogwarts until whoever is behind these attacks is apprehended". Mrs. Pucey tone was the same one Mum uses when she wants us to know that arguing with her would be futile. But with the stubborn look on Adrian's face, his mum expressed her opinion further. "They don't even know who's behind it yet".

A moment passed where everyone in the room studied the Puceys. Adrian was busy staring at his hands as he opened and closed them. His face was uneasy as his parents focused only on him. It was like witnessing an internal battle. "I know who's responsible". Adrian muttered.

Dumbledore stepped closer to our hospital beds; at the same time, Mr. Pucey prompted. "What was that, son?"

Adrian breathed deeply as if searching for resolve. The next time he spoke, his voice was filled with self-assurance. "I know who attacked us". My mum gasped. And Dad hugged Fred and George closer to him.

"Who?" Dumbledore asked.

"I figured it out in the woods". Adrian continued. "I don't know how it's possible. It shouldn't be possible, but". Adrian paused and looked up from his hands to make eye contact with his mum. "It was you-know-who. He's not dead. Somehow, he's not dead".

I could feel myself freezing as all the adults twittered about what Adrian had said. Even Snape was visibly reacting. Of course, Adrian would realize who the hooded figure was. You-know-who had called him Regulus Black, and a traitor. I had been more concerned about Harry connecting the dots about Adrian's identity. But now, Adrian was about to reveal information that was I was planning to keep under wraps for a while longer. Though, I suppose, it was better that he was revealing it than myself. At least his knowledge actually came from this world.

The looks on Mr. and Mrs. Puceys' faces were grim. It reminded me that they knew who Adrian was in his past life. "That is all the more reason for you to return home with us". Mrs. Pucey said, her voice taking on a softer edge as she talked with her son.

Mr. Pucey, on the other hand, took the revelation Adrian had given and ran with it. "See here Dumbledore, our boy has given you a name. All the facts we discussed in your office, point towards your defense against the dark arts teacher. So, what are you going to do about it?" Mr. Pucey spoke with the force of a prosecuting lawyer.

It was frustrating for him and all watching when Dumbledore stated very calmly, "we are looking into it". Mr. Pucey turned away in a huff. I looked over at Fred and George, trying to see if they felt as put out as I did. Their scrunched noses and down casted eyes made me feel like we were on the same page. I believe in Dumbledore, but he had been 'looking into it' since I had that first fit back at the start of the school year. Mum and Dad weren't looking terribly pleased either. The only ones who seemed to okay with Dumbledore's 'looking into it' were Snape and McGonagall. Dumbledore did not seem to register everyone's disappointment. His focus was solely on Adrian at this point. "How were you able to figure out who your attacker was? Why do you think it is you-know-who?"

Adrian refused to look at the headmaster. He kept his eyes focused on his mother, who had never once looked away from him since he had shared what he knew. "He said things", Adrian spoke slowly. "Things that no one else but You-know-who would say". Adrian sounded haunted, like each word that his mouth was one more letter being written on his death warrant. I wanted him to stop. I wished he could stop.

"How would you know that?" Dumbledore asked again, his gentle tone never changing.

"Private", Adrian muttered, still refusing to make eye contact with the headmaster.

His mum jumped in after his one-word utterance. "This is related to Adrian's past life. You know the laws, Professor Dumbledore. Adrian has no obligation to share any information past his current birth, and it is illegal to hold him responsible for the actions of a past life".

At that moment, everything turned on its head and things got crazy. Well…crazier. Thundering footsteps drew everyone's attention to the Hospital wing doors. Even Dumbledore turned around at the unexpected approach. For the second time that early morning, the doors were flung open with a resounding bang. In their wake stood a stormy eyed Sirus Black. He looked healthier than the last time I saw him. He no longer had bags under his eyes, and his hair looked trimmed. Even though it didn't look like it had been combed. But Sirus probably got pulled out of bed like the rest of our parents. So that was understandable. There was more color in his face, and it looked like he had shaved recently. He still was a bit thin though. Sirus' eyes flashed around the room, looking at everyone in turn before they landed on Adrian half tucked behind his mother. "You!" Sirus roared, pointing a long finger at the third-year Slytherin. "you- you Barmy, manky git!"

At the string of insults directed at his son, Mr. Pucey took an aggressive step forward but did not leave the perimeter of Adrian's bed. "Now see here!" He roared in a volume matching Sirus'.

It didn't stop Sirus, however. Sirus didn't even slow down. "Only you could come back from the dead! You slimy maggot!" Any color Adrian had gained after the attack in the forbidden forest vanished in the face of Sirus' verbal abuse.

"That is enough!" Mr. Pucey shouted. But it had no effect.

Sirus took a step closer to the Puceys, but McGonagall stepped in his back. "Black, what are you going on about?" She asked.

But Sirus acted like he didn't even notice his old head of house. "And what are you doing now? Sniffing around my Godson!" Sirus' words sunk in fast. Harry must have told him about what you-know-who had said in the forest. When I woke up in the hospital wing, Fred and George had said that Harry's Godfather was here too. Sirus must have gone to Harry while our parents had come to see us. I looked over at Pucey, he had the hospital blanket on his bed clenched in his fists. Poor Adrian. He didn't want this. "You couldn't let me have one good thing in my life! Instead, you rise from the dead go after the last family member I have!" That comment stung. I am not even a participant in this exchange and I still flinched. "Harry even said your dating Ron's older sister!" That comment had Mum and Dad looking at me, searching. I quickly shook my head. Yup, not dating yet, promise. "What? Thought if you got snuggly with the family that proved my innocence you can go after my Godson! Regulus Black, answer me!"

At the reveal, McGonagall gasped Dumbledore seemed to be having an epiphany. However, it gave Adrian the words he needed to fight back. "Bloody Arsehole. Regulus is dead. I died alone and in pain. And the next thing I knew, I am Adrian Pucey. Regulus didn't give a rat's arse about Potter. And neither do I" At that moment, a pajama-clad Harry scurried into the hospital room. His glasses were slightly askew and he was panting as if he had run all the way here from Gryffindor common room. He probably had left the same time Sirus had, but couldn't keep up with the man's fervent gait.

"Potter," Snape said with a sneer, no doubt getting ready to reprimand the first-year. But Harry pays him no mind. He skirts around Snape and heads straight for his Godfather.

"Sirus" Harry tries to break in. He's ignored.

"Holly and I have been friends since our first-year" Adrian continued. He didn't even seem to notice that he had used my first name in front of everyone present. It was like he forgot anyone else was in the room other than himself and Sirus. "How the bloody hell was I supposed to know that her younger brother would befriend your Godson. I didn't even know you had a Godson! Not everything is about you, Siri!"

"Don't call me that!" Sirus' voice raised about ten octaves. At this rate, we'd wake the rest of the castle. "You don't get to call me that, Reggie!" Sirus' comment was spiteful, but they were starting to sound less like brawlers and more like arguing brothers. Like Charlie and Percy when they used to have rows about shared chores.

"Why not?" Adrian retorted; a little bit misty-eyed. "I'm the one- Regulus was the one who gave you that nickname in the first place!"

"Because a death eater doesn't get to act all familiar with me. Not after everything you've done!"

"My son is not a death eater!" Mrs. Pucey broke in. But the focus remained on Sirus and Adrian.

"What have I done?" Adrian demanded to know, talking over his mum. "What bloody choice did I- did Regulus have? The first time you went to Hogwarts, you came back different. I was stuck, alone with Mother and Father a whole year. For a full year, the only person who talked to me was Kreacher. Why would Mother and Father waste time and attention on the spare, right? And when you did come home you ignored me. You locked yourself up in your room and pretended that I didn't exist. And then I foolishly thought things would be better when I went to Hogwarts. But you only cared about your friends, and I was sorted into Slytherin. So, you shut me out even more. You refused to even look at me when we passed in the halls!" It was starting to feel like we were intruding on a private moment.

"It's what you get for being a slimy snake!" Sirus replied.

"Siris!" Harry tried to break in.

"Not now Harry", Sirus said to his Godson.

"There is nothing wrong with being in Slytherin!" Adrian yelled at the same time that Sirus had spoken.

"Yes, there is! Slytherins grow up to be death eaters. You included!" Sirus jabbed his finger in Adrian's direction.

Adrian threw his hands up in the air. "What did you expect? I didn't- Regulus didn't want to take the mark. But you were gone and Mother and Father only paid attention to me after they disowned you! I'd done anything to keep them proud after being cast aside my whole life. I gave up everything I wanted to live up to their expectations!"

Sirus was starting to turn red. "I didn't leave you! Don't you remember? I found you in Diagon Alley after I graduated. I begged you to not be stupid. But you didn't listen! You told me to sod off!"

"That doesn't count!" Adrian responded without pause. "I needed- Regulus needed you when you were children. He needed you when you were both at school. That day at Diagon Alley was too late!" but then something interesting happened. Adrian took a deep breath, and he held steady eye contact with his brother from a past life. "I regretted that". Adrian spoke so mumbled that it was hard to hear. "I thought about how things might have been different if I had accepted your help as I died". What Adrian said seemed to be the magic words and, Sirus started to calm down as well. He lowered the hand he had been using to point angrily at Adrian and rested both of his hands on Harry's shoulders. The boy had been listening to all of this but had kept his eyes on his Godfather the whole time. Meanwhile, everyone else in the room was just spectators at this point. "I regretted taking the mark too, the minute after it appeared on my skin. I was told that they were just trying to preserve our way of life. That they were the front-line fighters of a higher purpose. A new order that would put the interests of magical ancestry ahead of others. But they killed whoever stood in their path without a second thought. And you-know-who didn't care about anything he preached. Not about our customs or our traditions. He was just using us. When I realized that, I tried to… fix the things that I had done. And I died trying. Regulus died trying". No one dared to say anything. Not even Dumbledore, as we waited for Adrian to bring his story full-circle. Though, I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed when he didn't bring up Horcruxes. "But then I got a second chance. I was reborn As Adrian to two parents who care about more things than just the family name. And in this life, I don't have siblings so I don't have to risk disappointing them. In this life, I haven't made any big mistakes and I am not planning to. I am going to live the life I wanted before my time as Regulus got derailed". Then Adrian steeled himself. "Siri, I'm happy you're not rotting in Azkaban. And I have no intention of messing with Potter. But if you can't accept that I'm Adrian Pucey; a different person, then I want nothing to do with you".

A heavy silence covered the room as Sirus Black and Adrian Pucey stared each other down. It took one brave Gryffindor first-year to break the silence. "Sirus," Harry said, voice pleading. Finally, Sirus looked at his Godson. "Please, he… Pucey, he tried to help me. He pulled me away from that… thing in the forest. He told me and Holly to run before he collapsed". Harry looked over in the direction of us Weasleys and his eyes found mine. "And Holly likes him". I coughed awkwardly. It felt weird being called out by an eleven-year-old. "And she told me… told Ron and me that we should judge people as individuals, not as a group". Harry remembered that? I'm touched. "So, maybe you can give him a chance?" Harry asked, turning back to his Godfather. "I don't think he's that bad".

The focus in the room shifted to Sirus. We all watched and waited. It was less than a minute, but it felt longer as Sirus stared into Harry's eyes. What was he seeing? Or was he working through everything Adrian said in his mind? Like a petulant child, Sirus looked up at Adrian. "I wasn't the best big brother", he gruffly admitted. That was all the acceptance Adrian was going to get. But judging by the smile that was trying to form on Adrian's face, that was all he needed.

It was a nice moment; two brothers making amends across lives and all odds. It was like a strange mixture of a Hallmark movie and a fairytale. "As touching as this was", drawled Snape in a tone that suggested more disgust than being emotionally moved. "Perhaps we can return to the mater at hand involving Mr. Pucey's belief that it was the dark lord who attack him, and how it relates to our defense against the dark arts professor". And then the nice moment was gone.


	29. Out of My Hands

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Out of My Hands

In the early hours of the morning filled with family drama and grand reveals, nothing got done. When Snape had reminded everyone of Pucey naming You-Know-Who as our attacker, and his father attributing the past attacks to Quirrell, everyone except Sirus and Harry were reminded of the alarming issue at hand. Time had to be spent to bring the head of the noble house of Black up to date. And then more time was used to allow Sirus to calm down after he interpreted what all that meant for his Godson. During this processing, Mum insisted many times that Harry be sent back to his dormitory and that they, the adults, have this conversation elsewhere. However, the other adults in the room were too focused on the matter at hand to really hear her.

"How do you know it was You-Know-Who?" Sirus had asked Adrian once he had been told the whole story.

In a true Potter fashion, Harry broke in before Adrian could answer. "I think it was Voldemort too". Everyone except for Dumbledore gasped at the forbidden name, and Harry looked around at all of us like we were being silly. But he continued to say "This has something to do with the stone, doesn't it?" After that, there was no chance of sending the first-year from the room. Only six people in the hospital wing were not confused at the mention of a stone.

"Stone? What stone?" Sirus had asked.

"The Philosopher Stone", Harry had answered honestly. "I was with Hagrid when he got it from Gringotts. They're guarding it here, at the school". And that went over just as well as one would expect. Dumbledore and the head of houses wanted to know how Harry knew about the stone. While our parents seemed to have been questioning the logic behind guarding a powerful magical object in a place full of school children. Sirus did not seem to know what he should have thought. Though I suppose, he is a new parent.

Back and forth, back and forth the adults argued. Occasionally, they paused and asked Harry to explain everything he knew. When it was 4:30 in the morning, and the only thing everyone agreed on was that the stone would have to be moved. At some point, Harry, Fred, and George had found their way to spare hospital beds and had drifted off. Despite the bickering, indecisive adults. At 4;30 in the morning, everyone was so done with all the current events, that Dumbledore offered guest suites to Mum and Dad, Pucey's parents, and Sirus with a promise to reconvene after we all had some rest. After all of the adults had left and the lights had been dimmed, Adrian and I had shared a look. "So" I had started to say slowly. "A lot of people know about Regulus Black now, huh?"

Adrian had Sighed. "I have no idea how that happened. Everything just came out". But I don't think he was quite ready to dwell on his slip of the tongue, because he had turned towards me and asked, "Is your middle name really Agatha?" Seems that we had indirectly learned a lot about each other that early morning.

* * *

I didn't get a whole lot of sleep. Maybe three or four hours tops. I woke to incessant chatter, sunlight shimmering through the tall glass windows of the hospital room, and the sound of someone awkwardly clearing his throat. Begrudgingly, I opened my eyes. A few things were different than the last time that I closed them. Harry, Fred, and George were no longer in the room. At some point, someone, most likely a house-elf, had delivered breakfast judging by the trays resting on Adrian's and My nightstands. And standing at the foot of my bed was a ruffled Percy holding the hand of an energetic Ginny. Once Percy saw I was awake, he said "Holly".

Slightly groggy, I answered "Perce". Both of us were ignoring Ginny who seemed to be looking around the hospital wing in wonder and sprouting out whatever came to mind. She was still dressed in her nightclothes, and her hair hadn't been combed. Percy was dressed in his school robes, and his prefect's badge gleamed where it was pinned on his chest. But he wasn't looking much better. His face drooped with tiredness and he was looking older than his years.

"Are you well?" He asked me; sounding like he was just proscribing to niceties instead of genuine concern. He must have had a long night.

"I'm feeling better". I answered honestly and concisely as I sat upright. With Percy looking like this, any other type of response probably would have been lost to him.

"I'm glad to hear it". Percy said before he used his head to gesture to our baby sister. "Ginny's been asking questions since she woke up at 5:45 in the morning". If he sounded put out at that last part, I ignored it. "I don't know where Mum and Dad are. I have class and… I need a break". I bit my lip to stay visibly unamused. Percy never likes it when people laugh at his expense. But, oh boy does he sound desperate. "Can Ginny stay with you?" And then Percy gave me his version of puppy dog eyes. It was more painful to look at than adorable. His glasses weren't helping him achieve the look either.

I nodded my head repeatedly to give myself time before I could give a composed verbal response. "Yes". I spoke slowly. "She can".

"Great", Percy smiled as he released Ginny's hand. He ran a hand through his hair in a great flurry of relief. "Ginny," he said to our youngest sibling who had fallen silent because she had taken to staring at a sleeping Adrian. But she managed to look away at the sound of her name. "You're going to stay with Holly." Ginny's eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning and a broad grin took over her face. Suddenly I was regretting agreeing so quickly. Percy seemed to be having similar thoughts as I was, because he added on, "Remember that Holly's resting". And then to me. "If Mum and Dad don't come to get her, I'll return to take her to lunch". Percy would have run out of the hospital wing if running inside the castle wasn't against school rules.

But I couldn't let him go quite yet. "Percy", I called before he could finish his hurried exit. Ginny had come around from the foot of the bed and sat on the edge of the bed on my left. Percy is too well-mannered to ignore me, so he looked back when he reached the doors. "Do you know where Fred and George are? They were here when I went to sleep". Their absence was kind of bugging me. Unless it was prank related, we always had a sense of where each other were.

Percy nodded once. "We saw them at breakfast. They said Madam Pomfrey kicked them and Potter out this morning. So, I am assuming they will be going to class. They also said that Madam Pomfrey said you and Pucey were not to leave the hospital wing anytime soon".

I nodded once. I guess that makes sense. "Thanks, Percy". I said, getting ready to entertain Ginny and her many questions for a while. Maybe I could distract her a bit with random facts about the castle.

However, Percy didn't immediately leave. With a purse of his lips, he looked over at the bed Adrian was occupying. "Holly", he said before pausing.

"Percy", I prompted. It's a good thing we're siblings. If we weren't on a first-name basis I'm not sure how we could communicate with one another.

"I thought we agreed. No boys".

And now Ginny was looking at Adrian and me with more interest. Bloody hell. "Goodbye Percy", I said with my left eye twitching.

* * *

"I don't remember Dad picking me up last night". Ginny said as she regaled me with the event from early this morning, from her point of view. "But when I woke up, I was at Hogwarts". She said the school's name with such reverence as if it were Disneyland. She won't be saying that next year when she sits for final exams for the first time… Actually, scratch that. There's a chance that exams will be canceled next year in light of the events in the chamber of secrets. Even though that might end up changing. "It was weird not knowing where I was. And it was weird that I was with Percy". I nodded when it was appropriate to assure Ginny that I was listening to every word. But my eyes were on Adrian. He had started to twitch when Ginny bombarded me with everything that came to her mind. Now that she was going through events in sequence, he was still twitching. I was trying to decide if he was waking up, or if he was feigning sleep so he didn't have to deal with a ten-year-old girl. "But I got to see the Gryffindor common room and Percy's dorm room. Did you know he has all of his textbooks alphabetized in his trunk when he's not using them?" I did not know that, but I also didn't need to know that. "I think I am going to enjoy living in Gryffindor Tower. That is if I get in. Holly, do you think I will be sorted into Gryffindor?"

I looked away from Adrian, to make eye contact with Ginny. She was, metaphorically, on the edge of her seat as she waited for my response. As if whatever answer I was going to give her was fate. It makes me uncomfortable that my opinion matters so much to her. "If you want to be in Gryffindor you will be". I promised her. I think that's accurate at any rate. That had been a whole thing in the books. Harry got sorted into Gryffindor because he chose to not be in Slytherin.

Ginny preened under the assurance and giggled. "When I come here next year, can we share a bedroom like we do at home?"

My initial response was, 'Merlin, no'. But luckily, I reframed from saying that; partially due to the suspicious shaking of Adrian's shoulders. He's awake, I just know it. "You won't want to", I said diplomatically. "You'll want to share with the girls in your year and make friends". I thought my answer was good, but when Ginny opened her mouth, I had second thoughts. Quickly, I spoke again to change this train of thought. I love my sister, but I also don't want her underfoot. "What were you and Percy doing when you were in the tower?"

And Ginny was off. Again. "I got to meet Ron's friends; Hermione and Neville, and they told Percy and me about what happened in the Forbidden Forest. It's so exciting to hear about all the adventures you've had here". She exclaimed without connecting the dots that said adventures landed me in the hospital wing. Oh, to be ten-years-old. "Oh!" Ginny suddenly gasped as she leaned closer to me. "I got to meet Harry Potter!" Dear Merlin, spare me. "It's so wicked that he's best friends with Ron. And he's cute". The fake sleeping lump that is Adrian Pucey abruptly coughed, and I was half tempted to throw my pillow at him to force him to end his faux sleep. At least then, he could take part in this conversation too and I wouldn't have to endure this alone. "He told us the whole story over breakfast. About how you fainted in the forbidden forest". I shook my head but bit my lip. I did not faint. But I also do not know how much Mum and Dad had told her about what has been going on this school year. There's a good chance that she may not know the difference between fainting and have a seizure. "and how he tried to help you before that centaur arrived. Harry's so brave", Ginny gushed, dreamy-eyed. Honestly, all my brothers, except maybe Ron, are worried about me having a romantic interest. But _this_ is the sister they should be concerned about. "What was it like?" Ginny asked. "What was it like being rescued by Harry Potter?" My little sister is asking me what it felt like to be saved by someone two years my junior… and I'm not sure what version of events Ginny was told, but she twisted something around because I was not rescued by Harry Potter. If anything, the real hero of last night was the centaur that I have no recollection of.

"You know, I don't actually know". I settled for saying. "I mean, I had fainted after all. But you should ask him". I nodded over to Adrian's direction; feeling some joy when I saw his form flinch under his blankets. "If I was rescued by Harry, then he was too. He might know more about it than I do". Ginny looked wistfully from me to Adrian and then back at me. Was her curiosity enough for her to bug a stranger? "Go on", I encouraged. "You can wake him up".

Ginny looked over at Adrian again, who was trying his hardest to appear dead asleep. But he wasn't fooling me. When Ginny looked back over to me, her eyes were no longer gleaming with the excitement of her first crush. Instead, she had adopted an expression of shy inquisitiveness. What caused that change, I asked myself? "Holly, is what Percy said true? Is he really your boyfriend?" Bollocks. That backfired.

I let my eyes wander over to Adrian's form. He hadn't moved. But I knew he was listening to every word. I could feel my face heat up, and quickly fixed my line of vision back to my sister, who was waiting for my answer with fidgeting patience. "Hey, did you hear about how Harry made the Gryffindor quidditch team as a first-year?" I asked; anything to change her to a different topic.

The lump started to laugh. And he didn't try to disguise it as coughing this time. Sitting, up Adrian turned towards Ginny and me, but he only had eyes for me. The git. "Don't change the subject". Adrian interjected. "I want to hear your answer to that question."

A moment passed of just Adrian and I staring at each other. Leaving the ten-year-old to interpret what she could from our body language. Adrian was smirking as his grey eyes connected with mine. For someone who had his greatest secret spilled a handful of hours ago, he is looking mightily unconcerned. Meanwhile, I was trying to think of a rock that I could crawl under and die. "Of course, we're not a couple". I said. My voice shook, but I was trying to not draw attention to that fact. "We haven't even gone on a date". That felt like sound logic to me.

"We went to Hogsmeade together". Adrian rebuttals, sounding smug. Was he trying to back me into a corner?

"Oooh!" Ginny piped up as she leaned into me. "You've been to Hogsmeade! What was that like? Was it romantic? Did you hold hands?" Unbelievable.

Ginny was only looking at me, but Adrian decided that he should be the one to answer. "We didn't hold hands. But I loaned her my scarf". Adrian said the word scarf in a very solicitous manner. His tone of voice went over Ginny's head, but it had me burning red. I looked at the Slytherin with the intent of expressing my displeasure through my eyes. But that was a mistake. Despite the last night's ordeal and the little amount of sleep we had received, Adrian was glowing. His grey eyes were bright and focused on me. The smirk on his face spoke of pure amusement, and his lips looked oh so inviting. Hurriedly I looked away. Damn it!

Ginny leaned in closer so that she could whisper to me. But the brat whispered loud enough that Adrian would be able to hear too. "I think Percy is right. You two are dating". She was practically squealing. Bloody hell. My little sister and my… my…. My special friend was teaming up on me.

* * *

Our parents made a reappearance around lunchtime. After, Percy had already come to collect Ginny. Luckily, enough. I am not sure I could stomach Ginny blurting out my relationship with Pucey to Mum and Dad. They were calmer than they were earlier this morning. They probably got a few more hours of sleep that Adrian and I had. "We've worked it all out". Mr. Pucey declared as he nodded in satisfaction at his son. "The stone will have to be moved, but I have guaranteed Dumbledore that our family business is the best way to protect it moving forward". He sounded so pleased with himself. Mrs. Pucey rolled her eyes as she sat next to Adrian's bedside. A family-style lunch had been delivered a few minutes after our parents had arrived, and she was currently placing more salad on Adrian's plate. My mum was of a similar mind, as she was currently trying to get me to eat more soup.

Out of curiosity, I asked. "What do you do, Mr. Pucey?"

Mr. Pucey looked at me and smirked. It was identical to his son's smirk. "Nothing important, my dear. I am a locksmith". His answer felt anti-climactic. I didn't think the wizarding world even had a need for locksmiths.

"Marcellus", Mrs. Pucey complained at the same time that Adrian snorted.

"Father's being modest". Adrian explained further. "We own a security firm. Father makes locks that can't be opened by common spells or brute magical force". Adrian sounded proud. Well, at least that explained who Adrian managed to lock us in the trophy room.

From his spot next to Mum, Dad added, "The Ministry has an account with the Puceys. Generally for the department of mysteries, but some colleagues and I have been trying to get funding approved to commission some locks to keep the misused muggle artifacts from being tampered with while they are in evidence". I feel like all of that is information I should seal away for the future. Especially that bit about the department of mysteries.

"So you're going to protect the stone?" I asked.

"Yes", Mr. Pucey agreed. He seemed excited by the prospect. "Our stock is sure to go up once it is learned we have a new contract with Hogwarts".

"But that doesn't solve the concerns we have about Adrian's safety". Mrs. Pucey reminded her husband with a certain edge in her voice.

Mum shook her head. "I don't understand how they can still allow that man to be loose in the castle with all the children".

"Quirrell?" I asked for confirmation.

Mum nodded, bristling slightly. But it was Dad who spoke next. "Remember that it is still speculation at this point. They can't just accuse a man of being You-Know-Who". Mum huffed in disagreement but didn't voice it. I suppose that would be a hard argument to win.

Deciding that his mum would be the one to make the final decision, Adrian looked squarely at her. "Please don't pull me from school," he said. I had never heard him sounding so young before.

Mrs. Pucey placed a manicured hand on his shoulder but remained firm. "If this doesn't get sorted soon, you are coming home with us. You can take your finals via owl, and we'll see how things play out during the summer before making a decision about next year". Adrian sighed but didn't argue. I think his mum might be similar to my mum in that aspect.

"Quite right" Mr. Pucey agreed.

Mrs. Pucey glanced over at my parents. Her voice was well-intended but unwavering. "I suggest that you do the same". Following her line of sight, I looked at my parents as well. It never occurred to me that they could take my siblings and me out of school.

Now, my parents are staunch Gryffindors. They believed in autonomy and did not appreciate people telling them what to do. Except when it was Mum telling Dad what to do. So, I expected them to say something along the lines as; 'we trust Dumbledore', or 'Our children are safe at Hogwarts'. Instead, looking only at me, Mum said: "We're considering it".

I don't know if I should call it fortunate or unfortunate, but it never came to that. As we were wrapping up lunch, McGonagall's voice started to echo throughout the hospital wing. I can only assume it was echoing throughout the entire school. "Attention Students. Afternoon classes and all extracurriculars have been canceled. Students are to return to their common rooms at once". It was reminiscent of the last time we had a school-wide announcement; when Pettigrew was exposed. "Prefects are to take attendance and follow all lockdown procedures. All staff members are to report to the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side at once". The muscles in my stomach tensed. The third-floor corridor on the right-hand side! Absolute nightmare. "To our students and guests in the hospital wing, stay where you are. Someone will be around shortly". I think it's official. I no longer have control over anything.


	30. The 14th Year

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry potter.

The 14th Year

Fred and George usually wake up before I do. It is a fact that is probably correlated with the likelihood that they will sleep through the night without waking up. But ever since we came home for an early Easter break, I've been waking up earlier than usual and just stare at them. Fred's split lip was looking better every day. And George's bruises had mostly cleared up, but he was still experiencing some stiffness in motion. They're fine. We are all fine. But I still got this awful feeling that they could be taken from me at any moment. As if feeling my eyes on him, George wakes up. We make eye contact immediately. It takes George a moment to get his eyes to focus, but when he does George closes them again. "Another nightmare?" He mumbled; pulling his blankets up higher around the both of us.

"Yeah", I answered. That explained why I was in his bed. But it didn't explain why he woke up to me staring at him. He was getting used to it, however. Him and Fred. I've been doing this for about a week now. Was it weird? Very. But I doubted I would be able to stop. Not until things started to feel normal again.

George opened his eyes. If he had the intention to go back to sleep, I think he's too awake for that now. "Mum's going to be high-maintenance today". His tone is weary. It is something we have all been feeling in the Weasley's household as of late. "I don't know what she was thinking".

I hummed and glanced up at the ceiling to collect my thoughts. When Mum first mentioned having a bunch of people over, no one was very enthused by the idea. It was only about a week ago that Hogwarts had to be closed down early for Easter break, and all students were sent home. No one was permitted to stay over the holiday. It was unexpected enough that I expect to see my dorm room instead of the Burrow when I wake up. "I think she's hoping that this will help everything return to normal faster", I said after a moment.

George nodded. "Still". But he didn't fully agree. "Today of all days, after… all that".

I shrugged as I started to get up. We'd just have to get through the day. And who knows? Maybe Mum is right, and today will make things better because none of us really know what to do.

* * *

"What do we do?" Mum asked after McGonagall finished the school-wide announcement. Dad and Mr. Pucey swiftly walked to the hospital wing's doors. Mr. Pucey already had his wand in hand, and Dad was pulling out his own as he walked. That spoke to the seriousness of the situation. Dad hardly ever pulled out his wand. He always tried to use his hands for whatever need he had. It was more fun for him that way. But at the moment, he was all business.

Mr. Pucey reached the doors first, He opened one of them wide enough to stick his head out. From the hospital wing, we couldn't hear anything. I doubt Mr. Pucey could see anything either. Mr. Pucey pulled his head back in and looked at Dad. "Should we investigate? Logically, based on the information we have already been given, the third-floor corridor they were talking about is probably where the Philosopher's Stone is being kept".

Dad glanced over at Mum; however, he didn't get a chance to answer. "Marcellus" Mrs. Pucey spoke up. She had risen into a standing position. She had a hand clasped onto her son's shoulder, and the other was gripping the handle of her ivy wand. "We should wait for more information. They said someone should be along presently".

Mum was having a different line of thought. "Arthur, the children", she exclaimed, climbing to her feet. She didn't mean all the students at Hogwarts. She means my five siblings that are currently elsewhere in the castle.

Dad seemed to be of similar mind if his pale expression was anything to go by. "They would have gone to their common room", he reasoned. "We know Percy will watch over Ginny". Of course, the only thing that would calm Mum is if she had all of us in her line of sight, not Dad thinking aloud. The announcement had directed all students not in the hospital wing to return to their dorms. Rule-follower Percy would have done that. As far as we knew, he also was currently watching Ginny, so Ginny should be with him. Fred, George, and Ron were not rule-followers but it would be crazy to assume they would be foolish enough to ignore a school-wide lockdown. But knowing what I know, I can't shake the feeling that at least one of my brothers may be ignoring the lockdown for the sake of the Philosopher's Stone.

"It has to be that Quirrell person," Mr. Pucey said, his eyes glossed over everyone in the room. He seemed agitated. "He must be going after the stone. Bah! This will ruin our new contract with Hogwarts". Mr. Pucey turned to his wife as he said that as if she would share his pain.

Mrs. Pucey was unsympathetic. "Marcellus", she said sternly. Her face had darkened in just the last few minutes. "We should lock the doors and wait until we have more information". Her tone left no room for argument.

Except for Mum, that is. "That is very well for you". Mum's voice was raising in shrillness. It had me straightening my spine with the sense that I was somehow in the wrong. "You have one child that is currently safe and with you". Mum waved her wand in the direction of the doors. "Five of my children are out there in Merlin knows what state with a madman on the loose who uses legilimency on minors!" That might just be the Molly Weasley rant of the year.

"As long as they don't go to the third-floor corridor they should be fine" Mr. Pucey broke in, but he made no move to secure the doors. Actually, the way he said 'the third-floor' was filled with so much longing, it made me think he wanted to go to the third floor.

Dad spoke at the same time Mr. Pucey had. "We don't know that, Molly".

Mum pushed up her sleeves and squared her shoulders. "We don't know anything," Mum said in a lower octave. Uh oh, she means business. Briefly, I made eye contact with Dad. I think we are of a similar mind. Mum marched forward, heading straight past Dad and Mr. Pucey. "Stay with Holly!" She yelled at Dad before thundering out the hospital wing's doors. Quirrell better hope that he doesn't cross paths with Mum. We all watched her go with our mouths open.

"um…um", Dad stuttered. "Molly!" He called after Mum, but when it was clear that she was gone, Dad tightened his grip on his wand. He looked at me, then back at the doors before looking at Mrs. Pucey. "Please look after my daughter". And then Dad was gone, chasing after Mum.

After a moment, Mr. Pucey closed his mouth and coughed. "Florentina, my dear, I feel it would be prudent if I go af-"

"Marcellus", Mrs. Pucey interjected. "Close the doors".

* * *

Mum was already hard at work in the kitchen by the time we went downstairs. "Morning", Fred mumbled as he walked over to his usual spot at the table. As George and I followed his lead the Weasley family table became full. Well, mostly full. Mum, of course, is cooking so she's not at her seat at the table. But everyone else is… almost. Bill and Charlie are here. They managed to get the time off they needed from their jobs in order for them to be here for today's event. Bill is currently trying to get a glum Ginny to eat more than just a couple of mouthfuls. While Charlie was attempting to engage Percy in a conversation. Ever since we came home, Percy hasn't been seen without his nose buried in a textbook. He says it is because of his OWLS, but I think he is studying like a maniac because it keeps his mind busy. If he is studying, he doesn't have to think about what has happened.

Dad looks up from his Daily Prophet. "Morning Fred". He is the only one to respond. Dad's voice is rough and croaky. I don't think he is getting enough rest.

As soon Fred, George, and I started to place eggs or toast on our plates, Mum whirled around. She had a ladle in one hand and her wand in the other. "Eat quickly", she ordered. "We've got a lot to do today before everyone starts to arrive". All of us triplets groaned at her words. That meant chores. Mum wanted us to do chores on today of all days. "None of that", Mum scolded. "It's important that we put our best foot forward". When Mum didn't meet any more resistance she started to give us our marching orders. "Arthur, would you clean out the fireplace?"

"Yes, dear", was Dad's automatic response.

"That way if anyone floos in they won't get soot all over the floors. And you'll need to pick up the Grangers too. They won't be able to travel by magical means without our help", Mum continued. "Bill and Charlie will get the table and chairs set up outside. We won't be able to host everyone inside. Ginny, dear, I want you to dust everything on the first floor, and pick up anything lying about". Ginny made a sniffling noise in response. "Percy, I want you to polish the silverware, and when Bill and Charlie are done, set everything up. Make sure there is enough for twenty people". I almost choked on my toast when I heard the number. George had to thump me on my back. I don't think we have ever had that many people over before. Of course, our family is rather large, so maybe it really isn't that many guests. But still, Mum is really going all out for this. Do we even have enough silverware and plates for that many? "Fred and George can degnome the garden". My fellow triplets rolled their eyes at each other at Mum's announcement. They always get stuck with degnoming. Honestly, I think Mum just likes to keep them out of the house when she's getting ready for an event. "And then you can weed as well. Just make sure you leave yourselves enough time to clean up before everyone starts to arrive". That left only one more person, me. "And Holly will help me in the kitchen". Mum turned back to her stove. With a flick of her wand, she added about three dozen eggs to a large pot of boiling water. With her back turned, all of us at the table, Dad included stared at each other with forlorn expressions. Today of all days. But we manned up. Shoved the rest of our breakfast into our mouths and moved to do exactly what Mum asked of us. No one wanted any confrontations today. And if I glanced at Ron's empty chair a few too many times, no one commented.

* * *

"Get up", Mrs. Pucey told Adrian and me. "Have your wands on hand. We should be safe where we are, but let's not leave anything to chance". She swept past Adrian's bedside and over to her husband, who seemed to be engaged in some sort of complex wand work as he casts spell after spell on the hospital wing's doors.

Adrian moved slowly, but he obeyed. First, he threw back the blankets, before swinging his legs over the side. He was dressed in the standard set of hospital wing pajamas. In any other situation I would have laughed at the sight of the poised, aristocratic Pucey donned in cotton white pajamas with thin blue stripes. But at the moment, I was currently humorless. Adrian finds his wand on his bedside table. He picks it up before turning to me. When he sees that I haven't moved, his eyebrows crease. "Holly", he started to say, but he stopped himself and pressed his lips together as if he thought better. He probably didn't want to promise me something he couldn't guarantee. "Let's get through today, and worry tomorrow".

I'm not sure how. But after Adrian's words, I managed to climb out of bed and locate my wand. I even managed to make a comment about how Adrian and I matched seeing as I was also wearing hospital wing pajamas. But I couldn't help but worry. My parents left. I understand why, but it still didn't feel very good to be left behind. And it bugged me that I didn't know what was going on in the third-floor corridor or if all my siblings and friends made it back to the common room. I also felt that if anything happened, I was partially to blame. This was not the order of events that I knew, and that was because I had tampered with them. If anyone got hurt, I think it would be my fault.

Mrs. Pucey had Adrian and I stand over by medicine cabinets. She said it was best because if anyone came through the doors, they wouldn't immediately see us, and it gave us things we could duck behind. She really didn't have much faith in the magical-powers of two third-years. Not that I am complaining. Whatever Mr. Pucey had done to the doors, lead to him standing in front of them; nodding his head in satisfaction. "It's a work of art, I tell you" he boasted despite his wife's disapproving look.

The Puceys and I stood on guard in the Hospital wing for about ten minutes until there was a hurried tapping on the doors. "Let me in!" A squeaky voice yelled for the other side.

"Who is it?" Mr. Pucey asked as Mrs. Pucey moved to stand in front of Adrian and me.

"Professor Flitwick!" The voice clarified from the other side.

"Flitwick who?" Mr. Pucey yelled back. Bloody hell. Is this a knock-knock joke? Do wizards even know what knock-knock jokes are?

We could hear Flitwick sputtering on the other side of the doors. "I'm the charms professor! Now let me in!"

Mr. Pucey turns his head in our direction. "Is that correct?" He asked.

"Yes," Adrian answered.

"It does sound like Professor Flitwick", I added.

With the twitch of his nose, Mr. Pucey turned back and performed another intricate wand wave. "The doors will open now", Mr. Pucey said. "But be warned, if you are not who you say you are the consequences will be dire".

The first thing we saw of Flitwick was his nose as he peeked in. When nothing unfortunate happened, the short Wizard shuffled all the way in. Mr. Pucey made sure the door shut behind our Charms professor. "My word", Flitwick squeaked. "You are prepared", he said as he peered up at Mr. Pucey.

"What can you tell us about what is happening, Professor?" Mrs. Pucey asked, probably to keep everyone on track.

Flitwick didn't immediately answer her. Instead, he looked around the room until his eyes landed on Adrian and me. He gave a short nod, before answering, "All but five students are accounted for. We have not seen hide or hair of Professor Quirrell. Professor Dumbledore and a few selected members of staff are currently working on checking on the stone and all of the protections we had set for it. I was informed that you all are aware of its presence here. The others are securing the castle and the grounds. If Professor Quirrell is found, Professor Dumbledore has ordered that he is to be apprehended at once."

I have a question, but Mrs. Pucey speaks up before I can. "You don't think Quirrell is going after the stone? Why would the staff find him anywhere other than the third-floor corridor?"

Flitwick nodded sagely. "It seems likely that he has gone for the stone, but we don't have defiant proof, so we must be prepared on both ends".

I open my mouth to voice my own question but am beaten to it again. "Then why did the announcement asked for members of staff to convene at the third-floor?" Mr. Pucey piped in.

Flitwick held up a finger for emphasis. "Because that was the best place to start. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape have gone to check on the stone after we were all given our assignments. Mr. Sirus Black has also joined them".

Finally, I manage to get a word in. "What students are unaccounted for?"

At my question, Flitwick shifts his body until he is fully facing me. His grim expression is really all I need, but I get a verbal response anyway. "The student unaccounted for are; Fred, George, and Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter". Bullocks.

* * *

Handling a kitchen knife was similar to handling a potions knife so I had no problem peeling the potatoes as Mum prepared the seasoning blend for her roast chickens. The task was methodical and I was enjoying it. I didn't have to think as I dropped the peels into the waste bin by my feet. There was only the next potato. "When you're done with those and have them halved, put them in water so they don't brown and then you can shell the peas", Mum said as started to rub the seasoning into the chicken.

Shell enough peas for twenty people? That was going to be a lot of peas. "When is everyone arriving?" I asked as I finished one potato and moved on to another one.

"Noon" Mum said without pausing in what she was doing. "I told everyone to get here at noon. The chickens should be done by then". One of the pot lids started to rattle on the stuff. Looking up from my task, I watched as Mum abandoned the chickens to take the hard-boiled eggs off the burner. "These are done", Mum said as she started to ladle out the eggs and placing them in a large bowl of cool water. "Do you remember how to make deviled eggs?" She asked me. The only response I gave was a nod. "Good. You can do that when I cooked the potatoes. We'll have the deviled eggs as appetizers. Of course, the chicken, potatoes, and peas will be the main course. And I still have to finish the dessert". At this point, Mum was mostly talking to herself as she explained today's menu. "I'm glad I baked it last night".

I finished peeling another potato but paused before starting another one. "Mum?" I waited for Mum to hum at me as a form of recognition before continuing. She was tapping the oven with her wand, so I assume she is setting the temperature. "Isn't this all a little too much?" At my question, Mum's shoulders tensed; spurring me to say more. "I mean, with everything that has happened isn't this too soon?"

"We're celebrating life," Mum said, before glancing over her shoulder. "There isn't a better time". Her gaze was steady, even if she was a little misty-eyed. But it was effective. She had me cowed. I looked back to the stack of potatoes I needed to peel and moved on to the next one. I could hear Mum opening the oven door and the clang of pans as she slid her chickens in. Our oven was magical of course. Dad had spelled it with an extension charm many years ago so Mum could cook multiple things at once. It was a necessary thing for a family as big as ours. "You're still on the potatoes, so I'll start on the peas", Mum said as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel before moving to join me at the table.

* * *

I made a lunge for the doors. To hell with the fact that I was in hospital wing pajamas and that I wasn't wearing any shoes. I had brothers that I needed to find. But I only made it one step before I am hauled backward. "Not on your life, Weasley," Adrian said. Only then do I realize that he had grabbed a fistful of my pajama top with his wandless hand. "Don't even think about it". He didn't sound surprised. Kind of like he was waiting for me to run from the room.

"I'm not thinking about it, I'm doing it!" I retorted; trying to get out of Adrian's hold by rolling my shoulders. It doesn't work.

"Weasley", he complained when I continued to squirm in his grasp like a hyperactive puppy. "Holly" he tried again. "If you go after Quirrell you're just going to end up having another fit". Adrian tried to reason.

I twisted again, trying to get him to let go. If this didn't work, I suppose a stinging hex would. "I'm not going after Quirrell". I argued though it had no effect.

"Mr. Pucey is quite right", Flitwick said. The adults had watched our whole scuffle without commenting. If this was any other day I would worry about what Mr. and Mrs. Pucey thought of this display. "We will remain here and wait. Now, if Mr. Pucey", Flitwick said nodding to the older Mr. Pucey. "would kindly secure the doors once more". Adrian waited until his father had performed the complicated wand motion again for letting go of the back of my pajamas. Taking two steps away from Adrian I gave him a scowl. Which he returned with a glare, but it's not heated. The jerk. Flitwick cleared his throat. "Now, where are Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?' I groaned and covered my face with my wandless hand.

I don't know how much time passed, but I spent it pacing the hospital wing floor. Mr. and Mrs. Pucey interrogated Flitwick for any possible pieces of information that he might have forgotten. While Adrian tracked my pacing with his eyes. Occasionally, he'd tell me to sit down and that I was giving him a headache. But I ignored him. If he has a headache, he earned it when he stopped me from going after my family. My pacing doesn't cease until there is another knock on the door. Mr. Pucey checks it just like he did the first time, except without a knock-knock joke type of questioning. When the doors are opened, we see McGonagall ushering Fred and George in front of her. My heart stops. George had his arms wrapped around his middle as if it hurt to move. While Fred was holding the sleeve of his school robe up to his bottom lip that was dripping blood. It seemed that there was even a bloodstain growing on his collar. "What happened?" I demanded to know as I just about jumped on them.

"This Ms. Weasley", McGonagall said in her driest voice "is what happens when students don't follow directions that were given for their own safety". Her sharp eyes scanned the area "Where is Madam Pomfrey?"

"She never returned from lunch," Mrs. Pucey said, walking a couple of steps closer.

"Are you alright?" I asked my brothers.

They shared a look between them and I got a glimpse of slight swelling under George's left eye. "Unfortunately, Holls", Fred started to say. His speech sounded jumbled due to the sleeve he had pressed against his lip to mop up the blood.

George finished his sentence. "Fred and I are not musically inclined". That was the only information they gave me, even with the dumbfounded look I gave them. Because come on! That didn't tell me anything.

"Your brothers will be fine, Ms. Weasley", McGonagall said; eyes softening just a tad when she looked at me. "Madam Pomfrey will check them over when she is able to return". McGonagall redirected to Flitwick. "The lockdown is still active". She looks at all of us one last time before stopping on Fred and George. "Stay here". If her words are pointed, no one comments. "I have to return to aid the others".

As McGonagall turns to leave, Mr. Pucey phrases a question that halts her. "Can you tell us any news?"

"The situation is still unclear" McGonagall answered.

* * *

The first guests to arrive were Lee with his Mum. Fred and George had just finished cleaning up after completing their yard work, and the boys immediately ran off to the pond near our house. Why? On this day, no one really cared to know. "Stay close" Mrs. Jordan called after them, as she accepted the deviled egg Mum offered her. We had just sprinkled them with paprika not too long ago.

"Lunch will be served soon" Mum added, as the boys disappeared around the corner. "How are you, Cece?" Mum asked as I slid the oven mitts on my hands and pulled out the roast chickens one by one. Mum will have to turn off the oven with her wand when she gets a chance. But she will, Mum never forgets. The air filled with the scent of savory chicken juices. That mixed with the steamed peas and buttery mashed potatoes.

"I'm well," Mrs. Jordan said before she popped the deviled egg into her mouth. "umm" she hummed as she chewed. At least we knew it tasted good. Mrs. Jordan held a hand in front of her mouth as she talked around a mouthful of food. "I'm happy that Lee is home in light of everything. It was good news to receive that owl that the school will re-open at the end of the holidays, but I worry about Lee going back". Mrs. Jordan said all of this as she chewed and swallowed. "How are you holding up, Molly?"

Mum sighed as she added the final touches to her dessert. I started to dish out the food onto the serving platters. Mum will have to carve the chickens, however. She has a certain way that she likes to do it. "I'm alright. I just don't understand how things could have gotten this far". With the cooking done, I was freed from the kitchen and I left the two older witches to talk amongst each other. I headed into the living room. Ginny had finished dusting a while ago so I had the space to myself. It wouldn't last for long. Especially when more guests started to arrive. I sat down on the chair closest to the window and peered out. Bill and Charlie had finished setting up the chairs, and Percy was placing the last of the silverware on the table. Hopefully, this afternoon wouldn't pass too slowly. There was a flash of green as the fireplace flared up from the kitchen. That's where the main hearth of the Weasley household lies. "Welcome," I heard Mum say. "There are some appetizers on the table. Have you met Mrs. Jordan? She has a son in the same year as the triplets and your son". One guess who the new arrivals are. "Adrian, Holly is right through there if you would like to join her".

I looked away from the window in time to see Adrian appear in the living room entrance. He looked different outside of his school uniform. Of course, I had seen him in street clothes before, but it was still a contrast. His robe was forest green with a high collar. He has a pair of black slacks underneath with a matching shirt. It was a stark difference that the hospital wing pajamas that I last saw him wearing. "Hi", I greeted as he moved further into the living room.

"Holly", he returned. Quickly, he scanned the room. I wonder how much the wooden floors, mismatched furniture, and farmhouse décor differed from his own home. It might be a bit of a cultural shock. But he didn't comment. We locked eyes. "Thank you for inviting us".

The smile I give him in return is a half one, but at least it was genuine. "Thanks for coming".

* * *

It took a while before I managed to get Fred and George separated from the other occupants of the hospital wing. It was hard to do this without drawing attention to ourselves. When we finally find a moment, I leaned in close and whispered harshly, "So, when you say you're not musically inclined…"

"Means we couldn't get past Fluffy", George finished for me. It was the confirmation I needed that they had gone to the third-floor corridor.

"How?" I asked. "I told you guys how to get past all of the different obstacles".

"Well, our trip to the out of bounds third-floor corridor wasn't planned", Fred said.

"We didn't have time to grab a musical instrument".

"And it turns out that Fluffy prefers classical".

"Didn't calm down at all when we started singing".

"Acapella seemed to wake him up, more than anything else".

I stared at my brothers with wide eyes. What? They successfully achieved many things this year; the impenetrable hats, the reversal spell, and pestering Percy until he was at his wit's end. For them to get stopped at the first obstacle leaves me speechless. I mean, Seriously!

"What are you three doing?" Flitwick called from the other end of the Hospital wing.

"Nothing!" We all yelled in sync. It was a well-practiced response at this point in our lives. It was a small blessing that it was Flitwick in here with us. Any other professor would be marching over here to break us up. But the Puceys were eyeing us with suspicion. We'd have to end this private conversation soon.

"Why did you go to the third-floor corridor in the first place?" I asked. It's not like them to make a big move without consulting with me. Especially something I have knowledge about.

Fred and George's faces darkened. "We were watching the map", George whispered.

"Thought it was unlikely that Quirrell wouldn't do something after what happened last night", Fred continued.

"Except, we couldn't find him on the map anywhere".

"But we did notice Ron and friends heading to the third-floor corridor", George explained. My heart clenched. It was what I expected considering recent events, but still. We were planning on the golden trio not having to face the third-floor corridor like they did in the book.

"Thought it strange that they were skipping lunch", Fred continued.

"So, we followed them", George said as he glanced over at the Puceys. Mr. and Mrs. Pucey were talking with Flitwick, but Adrian was staring at us. It gets easier to ignore after a while, trust me.

"We reached the third-floor corridor when the teachers started the lockdown."

"They found us not long after in the room they were keeping Fluffy".

Fred nodded in agreement with everything George said. "Honestly, I'm surprised that we're still alive. McGonagall looked like she wanted to throttle us". I sighed as I disregarded the attempt at humor. At least that was something; the teachers going to investigate the third-corridor. Maybe they could pull out the golden trio soon. And what was that part about not being able to find Quirrell on the map?

We didn't have to wait long, but it wasn't what we wanted either. The next people to be let into the hospital wing was everyone who had gone to the third-floor corridor. McGonagall was back. She walked in with her arm over the shoulders of a crying Granger, who appeared to be relatively unscathed. Sirus and Harry entered next. They were walking close together. Harry was staring at his feet with his bangs hiding his expression. While Sirus had an irritable expression on his face. I wondered what the dynamic was behind that. Dumbledore followed. He was holding his hands behind his back, and his face was grim but not foreboding. Did that mean things didn't end in a worst-case scenario? The last two people to enter the hospital wing were Snape, who in all honesty looked exactly the same as he always does. He was using his wand to float and transport the limp form of our youngest brother. Oh, Merlin.

* * *

Dad returned home after picking up the Grangers while Mum was still holding introductions between Mrs. Jordan and Adrian's parents. Adrian and I could hear everything in the living room. "Sorry", Dad said. "We got distracted. They were showing me how to use a toaster".

"My Dad really likes muggles and their inventions," I told Adrian as we listened in. we hadn't done much since he arrived. Mostly, we discussed the insane man-hunt the ministry had undergone to track down Quirrell. It was in all the newspapers. The muggle world had been notified that a deranged psychopath was on the loose. The ministry was flabbergasted that they couldn't find him. But I bet they haven't looked in Albania. Of course, You-Know-How was not mentioned in any of the newspapers or talked about at all by the ministry… well, actually that's not true. The story was spun in such a way that they made it sound like Quirrell was insane and thought that he was You-Know-Who. Neither Dumbledore nor anyone else corrected them. I suppose that is for the best. Wouldn't want the reign of Umbridge to occur any sooner than it has too. Another thing the newspapers never mentioned was the stone. Somehow, that remained under wraps.

"How does he feel then?" Adrian asked as he glanced away from the direction of the kitchen. Soon, we'd have to leave the semi-privacy of the living room (Both Mum and Mrs. Pucey had poked their head in a couple of times and just looked at us for a few seconds before retreating. No idea why) and socialize with everyone else. "Having a daughter that was once a muggle." Adrian clarified.

I wrinkled my nose before answering. "There hasn't been an appropriate moment for him to interrogate me yet. But there probably will be a time when he demands to know everything that I can tell him about muggle devices". At least that is something that wouldn't happen today. Mum wouldn't let that happen today.

We're called together for lunch soon after. Despite three people still being absent. Mum clucked her tongue as she started to pass around the food. "They're late". Her voice was filled with disapproval. "No point to put off lunch for their sakes".

"I'm sure they'll be here soon, Mum," Charlie said as he spooned some peas onto his plate before passing them to Percy.

"Everything looks wonderful, Molly" Mrs. Jordan complimented as she dished out some potatoes for herself and Ginny who was sitting on her right. "I never know how you do it".

"Yes", Mrs. Pucey agreed. "Everyone looks and smells divine". And she was right of course. Despite the circumstances surrounding this event, the food was delicious and the weather was beautiful. It was a good day for lunch in the garden. The air was clean with blue skies. The grass under our shoes was green and there were birds twittering in harmony in the nearby trees. Everyone was getting along surprisingly enough, and it made it feel like Hogwarts wasn't closed, and that the ministry wasn't hunting for Quirrell, and that the future wasn't uncertain.

We were half-way through the meal when our final guests arrived. "Hey" Sirus greeted everyone with gusto. Adrian leaned forward when his brother from another life made an appearance, but he remained seated. "This looks amazing" Sirus complimented.

But that wouldn't work on Mum. "You were supposed to be here at 12:00", Mum informed him.

Sirus rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, we were having too much fun," he said, gesturing to the two boys who had filed in behind him. Ron and Harry gravitated towards Hermione the moment they saw her. The first-years had their heads bent together as the chattered, seemingly unaware that everyone was watching them. After the three of them were found in the third-floor corridor, we learned a couple of things. The first being, that Quirrell never tried to get to the stone on that day. The man had waited until the whole school would be distracted by lunch before disappearing. Hence, the man-hunt. No one knows where he or his parasite is. The lockdown was initiated when Snape, who had been keeping track of Quirrell between the man's classes couldn't find him. It was assumed that he would go for the stone. However, what the teachers found in the third-floor corridor was Fred and George, and the three first-years. Of course, all of them received detentions to be served after school started again. Our parents and guardians were reassured that this detention would not involve the forbidden forest or anything of the like. Mum had been furious, and in a rare occurrence, so was Dad. It is unclear if Hermione, being a muggleborn, received any parental consequences for her actions. And Harry, well, Sirus grounded him right there in the hospital wing in front of all of us. Of course, Sirus had to ask Mum and Dad what you do with kids when you ground them. But Mum and Dad appreciated his attempt. Grounding isn't really a punishment Mum and Dad used, but Fred, George, and Ron ended up doing a few days of manual labor once we all came home.

With the last arrivals, we all resumed eating. Conversations were light as we all steered clear of the Quirrell topic. Bill and Charlie were talking about living abroad. Percy was in a lively exchange with Mr. Pucey about the stock market. While Sirus talked to Fred and George about his time at Hogwarts. The others were all sitting too far away for me to really gauge what they were discussing. Except for Adrian, because he was talking with me. "What do you think?" He asked. "Would you like to attempt Hogsmeade one more time?" That is, of course, if they allowed us to go to Hogsmeade with Quirrell still on the loose.

"I don't know," I said, putting my elbow on the table and resting my chin in the palm of my hand. "Do you have any more big secrets you're going to surprise me with?"

Adrian leaned in ever so slightly. "You already know all of my secrets".

I smiled a full smile this time. "Then I think we can give it another go". This time I wouldn't have to wear the stupid pink hat either, because I am confident that Quirrell would have fled further than Hogsmeade. My mind should be safe for a while.

When Mum decided that everyone had eaten their fill, she left to go into the kitchen. Ron let out a big yawn and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'm never staying up that late again". He had spent last night at Sirus' house with Harry. While Sirus made a serious attempt to discipline Harry, he wasn't very good at it. A couple of days into Harry's grounding, Sirus contacted Mum and Dad and asked if Ron could sleepover. To Ron's delight, Mum and dad felt it was safe enough to agree. And just like all of us, they were ready for things to return to normal. They wanted us to stop looking over our shoulders and expecting to see a turban-wearing professor standing behind us. Everyone smiled at Ron's comment as Mum came back out with a three-tiered cake. She used her wand to levitate if from the kitchen to the end of the table were Fred, George, and I were sitting. From past experiences, I knew that the bottom layer was chocolate. That was Fred's favorite. The middle layer was George's favorite flavor, lemon. The top tier was for me, consisting of a red velvet cake. The whole cake was iced in purple frosting and decorated with little sugar stars. Each tier contained multi-colored candles, alit, and flickering in the light breeze. "Make a wish", Mum said, a little misty-eyed as she went around the table, kissing each of us triplets on the temple. Fred, George, and I only needed to share one look before we knew what we wanted to wish for. At the same time, we took deep breaths and blew out the candles together. The table erupted in a round of applause and Mum moved to start cutting the cake. She was right, this was a good way to celebrate life.

Feeling Eyes on me I turned my head back to Adrian. His grey eyes were focused. They weren't cold, or analytical, or overly intense. If anything, they were relaxed. "Happy Birthday," Adrian said softly.


	31. The 1991-1992 House Cup

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The 1991-1992 House Cup

The spring semester resumed without much fanfare. Though it was a bit weird that platform nine and three quarters was packed like it is on September 1st. It made it difficult to wrap our minds around the fact that we only had about two months left of the school year. In light of everything, security increased. Not to the extent of dementors patrolling the border of the school grounds like in the _Prisoner of Azkaban_. But our possessions and persons were searched and scanned for any banned objects or dark magic. It was sort of like muggle airport security. And because of the whole Pettigrew incident, all familiars had the reversal spell cast on them. Unsurprisingly, no hidden animagi were exposed.

The Hogwarts gossip mill was in full swing, even with the interruption from break. Everyone had some speculation about why our defense against the dark art professor was running from the ministry of magic. Any mention of You-Know-Who was in reference to how the Daily Prophet reported it; Quirrell had a psychotic break and believed himself to be You-know-Who. Those of us who knew better kept our mouths shut. From our point of view, it was much more entertaining to talk about who was covering Quirrell's classes.

"Now boys and girls", Dumbledore said as he sat behind Quirrell's desk. "I was planning on continuing our discussion on using defensive spells to help us avoid unfortunate encounters, however; as I was indulging in a few licorice wands, it occurred to me that to do so would be very boring". My brothers and I smiled at each other. No one was surprised, not even the Slytherins. After a couple of weeks of classes with Dumbledore, we were all getting used to his teaching methods. His classes kind of reminded me of the tenured, but enthusiastic professors Jessie had when she was attending university. Dumbledore cared very much about the material, but he was also headmaster and was free to do whatever the hell he wanted as he passed the material on to us. This became apparent when he sent the first and second years on a school-wide scavenger hunt during their DADA classes. "So", he said; holding his arms out to us. "What would you all like to do?" That set the class off on hurried mutterings. The freedom Dumbledore was giving us was more than many ever had in their young lives. We didn't quite know what to do with it. When no one immediately responded, Dumbledore said, "Now, now. With young inquisitive minds such as yours, there must be something you've dreamt of learning."

After a few shifty eye exchanges with George, Fred raised a hand. "Sir", he called and waited for Dumbledore to nod before continuing to speak. "Professor Snape has a free period at the moment. Perhaps we could practice our defensive stills on him."

"Without telling him", George added.

Dumbledore smiled at my brothers; blue eyes twinkling. "I confess, that does sound amusing. Unfortunately, I must advise against upsetting the delicate balance of our beloved potions master". Just about everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom snort with glee at the headmaster calling Snape delicate. While Slytherin's side of the room appeared to be personally affronted. "I find myself already struggling to find a replacement for our defense professor. I don't think I would survive shopping for a new potions master as well". The class gave a polite laugh before Dumbledore moved on to the next student who raised her hand.

"Could we have class outside?"

"An excellent idea, Miss Stimpson", Dumbledore said; with his voice carefree. "But what shall we do once outside?"

When Stimpson did have anything else to offer, shocker, Dumbledore continue to look around the room. I was starting to get the impression that this was a test. Which was ludicrous. What knowledge could Dumbledore possibly gain from what a bunch of third-years wanted to do? It was Lee who had the winning idea. "What about capture the flag?"

* * *

Occupying the transfiguration courtyard, two student ties were commandeered; one Slytherin and one Gryffindor. Dumbledore stood in the center by the fountain. Originally, he had suggested that we have the boys go against the girls to break up the monotony. But that was quickly rejected. Gryffindor stood on the left and Slytherin on the right. Dumbledore would referee. Something that's always necessary when Gryffindors and Slytherins go head to head. He made his rules and expectations clear. "You may disarm and detain each other. But no curses, jinxes, or hexes. If I tell you to stop you will cease immediately". Calmly, Dumbledore looked at both sides. Whether it was to build anticipation or to make sure he was understood remains unclear. "Begin," Dumbledore said. Instantly, a blast of red light shot from the Slytherin side. "An excellent stun Mr. Warrington", Dumbledore said. Luckily, it was skillfully dodged by one of Fred and George's no-name roommates.

Now, Gryffindors are a competitive bunch by mature. The same can be said about the Slytherins. But no one got into our unplanned game of capture the flag more than the third-year members of the Gryffindor quidditch team. "Fred, George!" Angelina called as she prepared to charge the Slytherin side with Alicia. "If you let anyone get past you, I'll tell Wood!" Fred and George had elected to be the ones to guard the Gryffindor tie that we were using as our flag. Probably because it put them in the best position to mess with people.

"Aye, aye ma'am," Fred and George said as they gave Angelina a mock salute. They looked almost fox-like with their wide grins and mischievous eyes. Most likely we would be losing house points before this game was over.

"Ready?" Alicia asked Angelina as he poised her wand in front of her. Her eyebrows were slanted as she zeroed in on a target.

Angelina lowered herself into a sprinting stance with her wand tightly in hand. "Yeah", she agreed. "number five from the playbook?' She asked.

Alicia smirked. "Of course,". As if they had received some sort of invisible signal, both girls took off at the same time for Slytherin's side, yelling out in a battle cry. I watched all of this from the sideline. I hadn't moved since Dumbledore gave us permission to begin. Honestly, I think I would have preferred to continue our discussion on using defensive spells to participating in this melee.

"I like your motivation, Miss Johnson, Miss Spinnet", Dumbledore commented.

"So do I", Lee commented from my right side with a sort of breathless quality. It had me inching away for him.

"Why aren't you playing?" I asked him.

"I will" Lee assured me. "I'm just waiting for someone to need rescuing". He didn't take his eyes off Alicia or Angelina

I pointed to the Slytherins' side of the courtyard. "Isn't that one of your roommates that need saving over there?" On the other side was one of the no-name boys from Lee's and my brother's dorm. He was standing stone stiff. Looked like he had been hit by petrificus totalus.

Lee shrugged with a dismissive hum. "I'm only going to rescue the girls". I twitched. Of course, he would do that. Warrington made an attempt for the Gryffindor tie by dashing towards it with sparks flying out of the tip of the wand. But he proved to be more brawn than brain because Fred quickly stopped him with a leg-locking jinx. Then George levitated him over our heads and out of the game.

"Wonderfully executed teamwork Mr. Weasleys" Dumbledore complemented.

Looking away from Warrington, I end up making eye contact with Adrian from the other side of the courtyard. With a jerk of his head, Adrian gestures to the middle sidelines where we could meet. I shrug and start to make my way over there. Why not?

"Holly!" Alicia yelled the moment Adrian and I was standing face to face. "What are you doing? We need backup!" Alicia ducked from a jet of purple light at the last second, as Angelina stood by her side and started to throw up shield charms.

I locked eyes with Adrian before answering without any real feeling. "Oh, sorry. I'm out of the game. I've been captured". With a small snort and the shake of his head, Adrian offers me his arm. Once I take it, we move out of the line of fire.

"Traitor!" Angelina calls after me. But it isn't heated. After we got back from Easter break, Adrian and I had been spending an increasing amount of time together.

"Having fun?" Adrian asked in a drawl. He leaned against the exterior stone wall of the castle once we dropped each other's arms.

I shrugged. "It's not what I expected to be doing when I woke up this morning. But Fred and George look like they are having fun". I said, nodding over to my brothers. No other Slytherins had attempted to make a run for our flag yet, so they were entertaining themselves by casting color-changing charms at the floating Warrington, who was currently yelling at them.

From beside me, Adrian shudders. "As long as they're not targeting me", he muttered. But then in a normal toned voice, "Why aren't you interested in joining them?"

Looking away from Fred and George, I rolled my head back and tilted it to the side so I could see Adrian's face. "I don't mind playing once and a while. But sometimes I feel too self-conscious". It was a fact of reborn life. Sometimes I just felt too old to act my age. Other times, the impulse to act was too strong and I ended joining in any way. Though it was easier to play when I was at home in the burrow than it was anywhere else. There's just a certain level of trust at home that just isn't anywhere else. "What about you?"

It was meant as a casual question to keep the conversation going, but the contemplative look that took over Adrian's expression turned it more serious. "Other than quidditch and chess, I don't participate in many games. When I was Regulus it was not permitted and now as Adrian, it never interested me". Adrian spoke like he was merely presenting a book report. Sad, I thought. It must be the side effects of being both reborn and an only child. We turned back to the game of capture the flag. Stimpson, of all people, had managed to Angelina's shield charm and successfully stupefied the Gryffindor chaser.

"Good wand work, Miss Stimpson", Dumbledore said as Lee made an appearance; dashing over to the Slytherin side. No doubt to come to Angelina's aid.

"I think" Adrian started to say. "That I might be able to enjoy the things I missed out the first time around. Not this nonsense", Adrian corrected, waving a hand at our competing classmates. "But I can relax, at least for now, until You-Know-Who makes another appearance". His last comment was tinged with everything but relaxation. I couldn't blame him. If I took a guess, I'd say that the reincarnation of Regulus Black was probably third on You-Know-Who's hit lists; following Harry and Dumbledore. "My brother- Regulus' brother is safe and no longer in Azkaban. And he knows that I don't- Regulus didn't hate him. I think I can set Regulus aside for a while and just be Adrian". Adrian looked away from the game and down at me. A half-smile formed on his lips and it caused me to smile back at him.

"That's… That's great, Adrian", I said. In the back of my mind, I was torn. Adrian only knew that I was a muggle in my past life. He did not know that my muggle self knew… things about a chain of events that may or may not occur. Do I let him relax and enjoy a few years of peace (assuming Quirrell and his parasite didn't make a reappearance until _The Goblet of Fire_ )? Do I let him know that he shouldn't let his guard down? That there is a potential chance of war?

I run out of time to make a decision when Dumbledore announced, "We are out of time, Boys and Girls". The Gryffindors and even a few Slytherins groaned as they halted in their next plans of action. "You all did very well". Dumbledore assured them. "Please help your classmates undo whatever spell has been cast on them, and head to your next class. Mr. and Mr. Weasley let Mr. Warrington down gently please". There's time, right? I don't have to decide right away… I hope.

* * *

The first-years and Fred and George finished the detentions they earned by entering the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side the week before finals started. Granger was most distraught at the lost study time. It was just a well though. Percy had taken up a portion of the common room as he prepped for his OWLS. There were notes and books scattered all over the place that it was hard to find places to sit. If Granger had been studying too, the common room would have been transformed into a library. Everyone in Gryffindor was giving the Gryffindor seventh and fifth years as much space as possible. Every day those two years were looking more and more haggard as they dragged their feet around the castle with their noses buried in books. I was not looking forward to being in their shoes in a few years.

But just like everything in life, Percy's OWLS and our finals came and passed. Now, we sat in the great hall tucking into the end of the year feast. The house-elves had outdone themselves; pot roast with perfectly browned potatoes and cooked carrots. They even had additional sides, such as; mushroom ravioli, salad, and fresh dinner rolls. I couldn't wait for dessert. All around the table people were talking about their summer plans. Lee's family was planning a trip to tour the Americas. Alicia and Angelina had both signed up for the same quidditch summer camp, much to Wood's approval. Harry sadly reported that he had to return to his aunt and uncle for one week before he could spend the rest of the summer with Sirus. But at least it was only for a week. And what did us Weasleys have planned? Absolutely nothing and that was a beautiful thing.

Once dinner was over, but before dessert, Dumbledore stood up and called everyone to order. "Another year gone". He declared. Some looked down in defeat, while others leaned forward in anticipation. We all knew what was coming. "And now, the house cup needs awarding". Dumbledore paused and scanned the great hall at his leisure. "In fourth place", He finally said. "Gryffindor with 312 points". Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw politely clapped and Gryffindor mournfully joined in. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked down at the tabletop. Their heads were so low that their noses were almost touching it. No one commented. Between all the points we lost for being out after curfew, going to the forbidden corridor, and Fred and George's generally rule-breaking, no one was surprised. "In third place", Dumbledore continued. "Hufflepuff with 352 points". Hufflepuff let out a howl of cheer. They were all about personal bests in that house. From the teacher's table, Professor Sprout applauded them on; face rosy with pride. "In second place, Slytherin with 422 points". While Slytherin demurely accepted their second-place win, and Ravenclaw got ready to celebrate their victory, I was taken back. Ravenclaw? That wasn't how this was supposed to go. It should have been Slytherin in first place, and then Dumbledore gives Gryffindor more points for the things… Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville did… Except, things had happened a little differently in this order of things. "And in first, with 426 points, Ravenclaw house!" The blue and bronze house erupted in cheers as they jumped to their feet and clapped each other on the back. Hufflepuff was cheering them on as if they were a part of that house as well. I suppose it does make sense. This time around, Slytherin not only lost points because of Draco being out after curfew but Adrian as well. Permitting Ravenclaw to pull into the lead. Ah well, Ravenclaw deserves a win. It's a nice change, I guess.

Fred and George leaned over until I was smooshed between them. "I thought you said Gryffindor would win," George asked, whispering into my ear.

"We would have" I assured them. "If-"

"Now", Dumbledore said once Ravenclaw had quieted. "I think a change of decoration is in order". He clapped his hands together before he spread his arms out wide. The banners hanging from the ceiling changed from Slytherin green, last year's winner, to Ravenclaw blue. That set the Ravenclaws off again. Even Flitwick looked elated as he accepted congratulations from Sprout and Vector. I wonder when Ravenclaw last won the house cup.

"If?" Fred prompted, also in a whisper.

As soon as Dumbledore sat door, the table clear of dinner and dessert appeared. "If the whole Quirrell and stone thing had happened at the end of term and it wasn't as public as it turned out to be and if Harry had killed Quirrell". I said in a low murmur as I eyed a piece of chocolate cake. It even had a dollop of whipped cream on top. That needed to be mine. I reached across the table to grab it. My fingers just brushed it before George grabbed it from me. I turned to him and pulled out my most pitiful expression. I know he only has two sisters, but he should know that it is just cruel to deny girls chocolate cake. Unfortunately, my expression is not enough to convince him to give me the cake. He held over my head with one hand.

"So, you're saying-" George said.

"That we lost the house cup because Harry didn't kill Quirrell?" Fred asked glancing around the table to check that no one was listening to us.

I looked away from George and my piece of cake to look at my other brother when I answered him. "Well, when you put it like that…" I trailed off in favor of turning back to George. "Cake?" I asked hopefully.

George scoffed but obliged, lowering the plate of cake and putting it in front of me. "I guess there's always next year," He said, as I dug in.

Fred waited until I had a mouthful of cake before asking, "So Holls, what exactly will happen next year?"

With my cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, I paused and glanced at each of my brothers. Oh boy. It's too soon to think about next year.


	32. Existence

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Order of Things

2

Existence

"Dad", I complained, elongating the vowel sound as I folded my arms on the desktop and buried my head in them. It was Saturday, one of the few days Dad had off and he was choosing to spend it by sitting in a muggle library and asking me a million questions about computers. "You can't master computers in one day".

"Fascinating", Dad said as he henpecked at the keyboard to type his question into a search engine. It was one Jessie wasn't familiar with. Maybe Google hadn't been created yet. Or maybe it wouldn't exist in this world at all. With reverence, Dad used the mouse to click on the search button instead of hitting enter. Now, this is the nineties, so running a search or loading a page took longer than how Jessie remembered. Giving Dad the chance to ask, "why do they call it a mouse?"

Slowly, I turned my head so I could see Dad, who was looking at me expectantly. Why is it called a mouse? It was defiantly a question Jessie never asked herself. "I don't know". I admitted as Dad's search finished loading. "Why don't you type that question instead of..." I trailed off so I could read what was on the monitor. What I read made the muggle in me cringe. "How to float". Merlin, kill me. "Dad, muggles float the same way we do. The only difference between us is magic. Everything else is exactly the same". Suddenly I had a newfound appreciation for my past decision to not take muggle studies.

"Ah," Dad said as he looked at me and held up on finger to signal that he had a point that would refute me. "If that were true, why did they invent life vests?"

My nose wrinkled. "Can we go home now?" But Dad didn't hear me. Or maybe he chose not to. He had already turned back to the monitor, reading avidly about the science behind buoyancy and online offers for swimming lessons. Sadly, this was how a good portion of my summer break was spent. As Mum had promised when she had first learned that I remembered a past life and that past life had been as a muggle, she kept Dad from hounding me with questions when at school. And then all that… nonsense that happened with Quirrell and school delayed Dad's curiosity. But when summer started, there was no avoiding it. Every free moment Dad had was used to integrate me about the functions of everyday muggle life. But it wasn't just Dad. The whole family knew about Jessie, though Fred and George were the only ones who knew about Jessie knowing about Harry Potter as a franchise. At first, it felt uncomfortable. Everyone except Mum and my fellow triplets kept asking questions about Jessie and America. Ginny would ask anything that came to mind. Usually about America or muggle schools. Ron was morbidly curious about how I died and what it was like to die. Percy hounded me for knowledge about how to write resumes and how to dress to make good impressions at job interviews since I, as Jessie, had already gone through that once before. It was like they wanted me to be someone I wasn't. Or someone I wasn't anymore. It took me practically throwing a tantrum at the dinner table one muggy July evening to get them to look at me like they used to. "I'm Holly Weasley!" I had yelled as I sprung up from my seat at the table, knocking Fred's glass of milk over in the process. "Since you've all seem to forget. Holly has never been to America!" I had continued on a rampage; gesturing madly with my arms or pounding my fists on the tabletop with each statement. I had done whatever felt right in the moment. "Holly has never been to a muggle school! Holly has never had a full-time job with benefits and a retirement plan! In fact, Jessie never had that either. Holly does not want to talk about what it's like to be stabbed to death! And Holly would very much like her family to remember that Jessie is Holly's past, so Holly can stop talking in the third-person!" It was like my rant had triggered a universal pause button or something. Everyone was staring at me as him I had just accosted the Minister of Magic himself while announcing that I was going to take off a career as a circus performer. Even calm and collected Percy was left dazed by me snapping. No one was even moving as they all stared at me with either mouthful of food or with their forks halfway raised to their mouths. Up until this point, I had answered all of their questions. Except for Ron's inquiries because it was just too painful. For a few seconds that felt like minutes the only things moving in the Weasley kitchen were the hands of the grandfather clock that had all of our faces on them and the spilled milk that was slowly dripping off of the edge of the table and onto Fred's lap.

It took Fred and George bursting out in laughter and applause to unpause everyone. "Bravo, Bravo" Fred had said as he clapped before he started to mop up the milk on his person with his napkin.

"An excellent, riveting performance, Holls", George had declared as if he was a theater critic for the daily prophet. "I was very moved".

Color ignited in the faces of my other family members as they sheepishly looked away from me. Percy couched into a closed fist as he rubbed the back of his ears. Ron was frowning into his plate of pork chops and green beans while Ginny had turned teary-eyed. As my fellow triplets continued to bust a gut, I shrink back down into my chair. "I'm sorry" I side in a humbled indoor voice; staring at my still clenched hands.

I waited for Dad to ask me to remember my manners or for Mum to scold me before demanding that I clean up the spilled milked that Fred was more spreading around than mopping up. Instead Mum simply said, "Right that's the end of that". Somewhat surprised, I looked up in time to see Mum rising. She pulled out her wand from her apron pocket and with an efficient swish, the milk vanished from the table and the floor. "She's our same Holly she's always been. And I don't want to hear anyone making her feel otherwise". With the mess cleaned up, Mum sat back down and looked squarely at Dad.

"Here, Here!" had Fred and George cheered, raising their glasses into the air. Although, Fred's glass was empty.

After that, anything personally involving Jessie was strictly off-limits. No more inquiries about past death experiences. No more questions about if I was in love in my last life, or if I preferred being Holly instead of Jessie. They couldn't even ask if my favorite color had been Jessie's favorite color. Of course, my favorite color is the same. I am the same person, after all. Just with different experiences. But there was one thing that they could ask me about. The function and use of muggle objects since that was fact and not personal. Dad was thrilled. Once Dad got his fill of muggle buoyancy, he pushed the keyboard and mouse in my direction. "Do you want to look at anything?" He asked carefully. "It's been a little more than fourteen years since you've last got to use one of these".

I picked my head up and sat up straighter. He's right. "Sure", I said slowly. I had missed technology in my first couple of years of life as Holly. It was almost like I was going through withdrawal. I didn't have a social media presence to monitor. No pictures to upload. I had no way to like other people's posts. In fact, social media wasn't even a thing in 1978. I doubt it was even a thing now in the nineties. It would be in about another nine years or so. If this world is similar to Jessie's. I couldn't keep up with my favorite TV dramas. Although clumsy, my untrained index fingers reflexively rest over the J and F keys. It's been a lifetime since I've last typed. The position I was holding my hands in felt foreign, but familiar. Sort of like when a baseball player breaks his arm and they most retrain those muscles the next time he can throw a ball or pick up a bat. For a moment I stare at the computer screen; mind drawing a blank.

"I don't know what I want to do". I said. Dad stayed quiet, letting me work it out for myself. I stopped longing for technology by the time Holly turned three. At that age, I was old enough to engage in rough and tumble play with all my siblings and could manage some conversation. It became easier to leave everything I had known behind me as I learned the facets of my new life. Though to this day, I still miss the convenience of spell-check. Spell-check would be a godsend for History of Magic essays. Thinking about school, my hands move by themselves; flying over the keyboard with only one or two typos. I typed 'The University of Nebraska' and pressed enter.

"Aw," said Dad as he studied my hands and started to mimic their position and movement. "Yes, that is much more efficient".

I ignored him as I watched the search engine load; clicking on the first link when it finishes. The homepage that comes up contains an image that has me sitting back in my chair. There it was. That was my school. The image was of the football stadium. It wasn't exactly the same as I remembered it. There was less seating. It would probably be expanded sometime in the future. But still. To use Holly's eyes to see something that Jessie's eyes had also seen was unnerving. I felt like I was in two places at once. Like I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. "That's where I went to school". I told Dad. Using the mouse I found the table labeled academics. A few more clicks and a couple of different webpages later I pulled up the political science major page. "That's what I studied," I said.

"You were a politician?" Dad asked, almost in disbelief. Technically, Mum had outlawed questions about Jessie. But since I was the one who brought it up, it can't be helped. As I stared transfixed at pieces of my past I didn't care.

I scoffed. "Merlin, no. Political science analyses what goes on in politics. Like politicians' behavior and actions. It compares it to the economy". As I continued to explain Jessie's field of study, I used to mouse to click on the link that would take me to the faculty page. In this world, I was curious who would be in my professors' places. "we also looked at law, sociology, and psychology". I'm not sure if Dad knew what psychology was, but he let me talk without interrupting. "Basically, we applied to social sciences to anything political or governmental". I had more I wanted to say. I could tell Dad about the different philosophers I learned about and concepts like the transfer of power. But when the faculty page loaded, I forgot everything I wanted to say.

"Holly?" Dad asked after I had been silent a little too long. "What's the matter? You're as white as a ghost". A fitting metaphor, because I think I have just seen a ghost. On the faculty page, there is one picture that stands out to me more than the others. Professor R. Brown. He's younger than I remember. With no facial hair and black hair instead of grey. I was looking at a picture of Jessie's academic advisor. But how? How was he alive? He shouldn't exist. "Holly?" Dad tried again.

The strain I hear in voice has me responding. "I know him". I said. How is this possible? "He was one of my- one of Jessie's professors".

Dad shifted in his chair before answering cautiously. "That must feel strange".

"Yeah" I agreed still studying the contours of Professor Brown's young face. He didn't even have half the wrinkles as Jessie remembered yet, but there was no misplacing those blue eyes and lopsided smile. This shouldn't be possible. If Professor Brown was alive… alive in the same world as the wizarding world, then was I still alive? I mean, was Jessie alive? It was 1992 after all. Jessie died in 2019. In August of 1992, I wouldn't have been- Jessie wouldn't have been born yet….She was born in 1993. So, was I- was Jessie going to be born next year? Did that mean that my mom- Jessie's mom was alive? Jessie's brother" Just How? Why? I don't know what to think. The phrase Dad had used, 'white as a ghost', felt appropriate. Perhaps Professor Brown wasn't the ghost. Maybe I was.

Dad coughed and touched my shoulder. Anything to get me to look away from the computer. "Perhaps we should head home for the day. I think Mum is baking a pie for after dinner tonight. I know you like to help her in the kitchen".

"Yeah", I mumble again. That did sound nice. Like a nice distraction.

* * *

I spent the rest of the day in some sort of daze. Dinner, consisting of a salad made of homegrown vegetables and Mum's famous rosemary chicken, was delicious. But I hardly ate any of it. Including the berry pie that we had for dessert. The dinner conversation flew over my head as well. I didn't laugh when George convinced Ginny that all first-years must pass a written exam before they can use the school brooms. I didn't retort when Ron made a comment about Adrian being my boyfriend when Mum mentioned that I had gotten another letter from him this afternoon when I had been out with dad. And at the first opportunity, I excused myself from the table by saying that I had summer homework I wanted to get done.

Alone in my and Ginny's bedroom, I made the motions of taking out my arithmancy textbook and the parchment and quill I would need to write the assignment. I got as far as opening the book to the correct page before I stopped and just stared at the wall that my desk is pushed against. Was that actually Professor Brown? Was Am I just making this all up? What if known of this exists? What if I don't exist and I made everything up?

I'm not sure how much time I wasted staring at that wall as I thought thoughts that had no apparent answers. But I was broken out of it when Mum entered the room. "Holly", she called as she poked her head inside. Though she didn't wait for permission before coming in all of the way. "You were quiet at dinner", she said as she sat down on Ginny's bed. While she waited for me to respond, Mum smoothed out the ceases of Ginny's pink quilt with her hands.

"Yes", I agreed, looking down at the arithmancy book I hadn't read a single word out of. "I… have a lot on my mind".

"I think I know what about," Mum said. Her voice held so much confidence that it had me snapping my head up to look at her. There's no way. I'll admit that internal crises are normal for teenagers. For anyone really. But there's no way Mum could possibly know that I was questioning whether Holly Weasley was actually a real person or not. Mum gave me a wizen warm smile. The type of smiles mothers given when they are trying to coax their children into uncomfortable conversations. She gave me the same smile when she explained puberty to me when I was eleven. I had almost told her right then and there that I remembered a past life I didn't have to hear about my developing body. "That's the third letter you've gotten from Adrian this week". Mum said, nodding her head in the direction of the waxed sealed letter sitting on the corner of my desk. I hadn't opened it yet. Adrian and I had been exchanging letters all summer as well as visiting each other in person. It was nice. Having a friend that also remembered a past life.

"It's probably just about arithmancy", I lied as I felt my face heat up a bit. I knew what the letter was about. More and more often we talked less about school and more about miscellaneous things neither one of us cared that much about. The important thing is that we were talking. In my last letter I had sent him a cut out from a witch weekly magazine containing a quiz titled 'What do wizards think about you?'. I thought Adrian would find some amusement in it. The letter sitting on my desk was probably his scathing analysis of it.

Mum's expression was overly knowing, causing me to look away. "Holly", she started again. "You're getting older". Was I though? I couldn't help but think. I might be getting younger. After all, Jessie hasn't even been born yet. "And you may start to notice that things are changing".

I don't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but that line derailed all thoughts involving my existence. That was the same line she started with when I was Eleven before she started to inform me about periods. "I think you have the wrong daughter". I said, looking back at Mum. I was almost pleading. "We already had this conversation when I was Elven. It's Ginny's turn now".

Mum's smile remained patient, calm, and deceptively inviting. "Such as", Mum went on to say, acting like I hadn't said anything. "Paying more attention to boys. Maybe one in particular".

"Oh, merlin" I groaned as my body temperate spiked. I think I might actually prefer to go back to pondering my existence.

"And I think this boy may be paying more attention to you as well", Mum said. Taking get care to not use Adrian's name. Why? Did she think if she called me out about or childish flirting I would deny everything? "Now, we've already talked about relations between a male and a female-"

"Yes, we did," I said quickly to end this train of thought.

But Mum kept going. "And I told you the safest thing was to wait until you are married to someone you really love". Mum's eyes become more point at that last part. What exactly did she think Adrian and I are up to? "But your older now, so I want to talk to you about giving consent, and not being pressured into anything you don't want to do". Merlin, kill me. "Fourteen is still too young to be… sexually intimate with a significant other. But when as you get older you might decide you don't want to wait until marriage. And your young man might not want to wait either. Which is fine long as you make an informed choice. So, I think it's time we talked about contraceptive".

And that's when I lost it. "Ok, Mum" I interrupted, waving my hands a little to stop her. And then I said the stupidest thing I could have said in this situation. "I'm not a virgin!" Immediately after the words left my lips, I was kicking myself. Idiot! That's not something any fourteen-year-old should tell their mother. I'll be lucky if she lets me out of the house after this.

Mum lost her patient, warm smile. First, she seemed to blank before she started to heat up. "What?" Mum sputter. "How? Holly Weasley!" Mum went from disbelief to scolding in less than a second.

"I mean…" I said, trying to placate.

"Is this what you were up all those times you went over to his house? Because there defiantly wasn't any… any fornicating in this house". I want to point out that that's not true. That there was eight of us Weasley children. So, there must have been quite a bit of fornicating in this house. Luckily, I have the sense to not say that.

"I just meant", I tried again. "That I didn't die a virgin. Jessie wasn't a virgin." I gestured a hand over my whole body. "I, as in Holly, haven't done anything. I'm not ready". I promised, speaking very quickly. "I just know all of this already because of …. who I used to be." Who I will be? The jury is still out on that one.

As Mum deflated out of her mixture of incredulity, concern, and… disapproval, I was able to take a deep breath. I really need to start thinking before I speak. "Your past life" Mum muttered to herself. She shook her head once but followed it up with a nod. I have no idea what that means. "Alright," Mum said after a moment as if steeling herself. Though she did eye me rather suspiciously. "In that case, no boys other than your brothers are allowed in your bedroom. In fact, I don't want you behind closed doors with any boy. If you want to date, that's fine. But you are to tell someone who you are going with and where you are going and when you will be back". Mum laid out the rules very clearly. I nodded. I could live with those rules. It's not like I could do anything without Fred and George knowing anyway. Then, as if assuring herself, Mum said. "Adrian is from a traditional family. He seems like a nice boy. I don't think he will do anything without our blessing".

That caught my interest. That sounded a lot like the traditional pureblood courting I read about the last school year. "Are you talking about pureblood traditions?" I asked. Mum nodded. "Oh yeah, Adrian's totally traditional. We got into a fight about it last year". I left out the part where it led me to send fraudulent letters. "Did you know that if wizards verbally announce their interest in a witch that witch becomes off-limits?" Because really, if Mum knew I want to know why I didn't.

Mum takes her time to study my face. She didn't give me a yes or no answer. Instead, she asked, "Did that happen?"

"Yes," I said with a nod. "That was a part of the fight I mentioned."

Mum sighed and shook her head in a fashion that had her hair swishing in front of her eyes. "We didn't prepare you enough for this. I thought I had more time", she said softly as if to herself, as she stood up. "I'll have to tell your Father". Mum moved towards to door, pausing as her hand touched the doorknob. "But this conversation isn't over, young lady. We still need to talk about contraceptives. I suspect that it will be different than what muggles use". And then Mum left the room.

Bullocks.


	33. Frist Loves

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. 

First Loves

Sometimes, it's tricky being a multiple. We act like we're inseparable. Like three parts of a whole. And yet we each have our own problems and concerns. Things that can consume your consciousness until you stop thinking about what someone else might be dealing with. With something from my other life seeping into my present life I found myself thinking more and more about myself and less and less about my other parts. Until one day I looked up and noticed a clot had developed in our triplet dynamic. "George, you okay?" I asked; a piece of buttered toast lifted halfway to my mouth. It was Tuesday. Three days since I learned that there might be people who existed both in Holly's and Jessie's worlds. I hadn't stopped thinking about it. Making it near impossible to sleep or focus on anything else. But when your brother adopts the sad eyes of a basset hound, you tend to snap back to the present.

The generally positive and enjoyable George briefly made eye contact with me before frowning into his glass of pumpkin juice. "I'm fine" he mumbled. Uh-huh, sure. I thought as a moment passes with me staring at my brother who's staring at his breakfast. The only sounds being the ticking of the grandfather clock and the clucking of the hens out in the garden. In a rare occurrence, both of us had the kitchen to ourselves, having woken up late. Dad had already left for work. Percy had secluded himself in his room, as was the norm. While Mum was trying to get Ginny and Ron to help with chores instead of bickering. And Fred… well, I hadn't seen Fred yet this morning.

"Want to try saying that again to make it sound more believable?" I asked.

George sighed as he set his glass down. "Holly", he started to say as his eyes connected with mine. "What does Fred have that I don't?"

His question had me repeating it to myself in my head. What did Fred have that George didn't? Was this a riddle? I dropped my toast onto my plate. "Nothing" I answered slowly. "I mean that literally. You're identical. You share clothes." I trailed off. Was that the problem? "Do you want to have something that Fred doesn't?" It would make sense. When I'm around we are referred to as the triplets. When I am absent, Fred and George are called Fred and George as if they were interchangeable. Kind of like the twins from that muggle book "The Lord of the Flies" by William Golding. Being so closely identified with someone else could probably give anyone a complex.

"What about personality?" George asked. Either ignoring my question or not hearing it.

Where was this coming from? "Well, Fred's a bit more extroverted than you are. But not enough for most people to really notice. And you tend to be less impulsive than him".

George wrinkled his nose. "Are extroverts more attractive?"

I wrinkled my nose back at him. Where was he going with this? "George, where's Fred?"

George slumped down in his chair and shifted until he is back to gazing into the depths of his pumpkin juice. "He's replying to a letter he got this morning". Okay, that told me very specifically what my other triplet was doing, but that didn't tell me why it was causing George to be so gloomy.

"And the letter is bad?" I asked slowly.

Exhaling loudly through his nose, George said, "It was from Angela". The first of the dots started to connect. "And it was addressed to just Fred, instead of both of us like usual".

This was uncharted territory. "And you both… like her?" I asked pausing in the middle of my questions to see if I could gauge his reaction.

George nodded forlornly. "Yeah, but I could never do anything because Fred called dibs first, and now that she's showing interest in him…"

Right, well setting aside the fact they were calling dibs on girls… "This would be one of the few times you two can't share". I finished his sentence for him, leaning back in my chair as I thought. Oh, bother, I'm not sure I'm ready for my brothers to be interested in girls. As far as relationship drama goes, I have enough of that for all three of us.

George makes eye contact, locking me into what is going to be an uncomfortable conversation. "You know the future. Who ends up with Angelina?"

I sighed. "Well I don't know the future", I reminded him. "I know a different version of the future".

"And what happened in it?" George demanded to know, determined to know who conquered in their school romance.

I clicked my tongue as I thought about how to answer. The problem is… technically they both got the girl. But this time around…. I was hoping George didn't get Angelina's affections. But how do I get that across without hurting his feelings? "So, that dance that I mentioned that's going to happen two years from now…." George nods his head to show me that he remembers. "Well, Fred takes Angelina. I don't know if they date after that". George's face falls even further, like an avalanche. Unbeknownst to him, I haven't even gotten to the really painful part yet. "But in Jessie's version, you marry Angelina after we've all grown up. You two would have two kids. Fred the second and Roxanne". I let that sink in, hoping he noticed that I said would instead of will. But being the fourteen-year-old boy that he is, he only hears the part he wants to hear.

"She chooses me" he breathes, his facial expression doing a one-eighty.

I smile at my brother, and I hope it reflects all the empathy I am feeling for him. "In that version, technically she does choose you", I allow. "But Fred is also dead in that version". As George took in the meaning of my words, I felt like I was watching a man who had just been cured of cancer only to be run over by a car seconds after leaving the hospital.

George sinks back into himself, the hope he had was fleeting. "And we're not going to let him die".

I shift awkwardly in my seat. "That is the plan", I agreed. Thankfully, George has never been the jealous type. Thankfully, the Weasley clan is family-oriented. Otherwise, this may have been the start of a murder plot.

* * *

If there was tension between Fred and George, no one else in the house noticed. At mealtimes, and joint chores, they remained glued to each other's' sides. Laughing at each other's comments, and teaming up to get under Percy's skin. But Fred was spending an increasing amount of time in their bedroom alone. While George had begun to take solo flights around our homemade quidditch pitch. It was sort of like watching a couple that you knew was going to get a divorce, but they themselves didn't know it yet. And, well…. I can't have that. One afternoon while George was flying, I left Ginny who was playing with a crossword from the Daily Prophet, and headed up the stairs to Fred and George's room. The door is shut, which is unsurprising. It wouldn't do for Mum to accidentally discover the amount of contraband my brothers have. I don't knock as I enter the room. I never do. Other than me with my girl stuff, the three of us have never had a need for privacy. "Hey, Fred" I greeted as I closed the door behind him. Fred sits at his desk, hunched over a piece of parchment. Just as George said, the letters between him and Angelina was becoming a daily thing. Balls of crunched up parchment littered his desktop and the floor; speaking past drafts that didn't live up to his expectations. He grunted at me as I climbed up onto his bed and shifted until I was lying on my stomach with my chin propped up in my hands. Not once did he look up from what he was doing. In the back of my head, I hoped this isn't what I look like when writing to Adrian. Of course, I'm not trying to capture or maintain Adrian's attention. I just like giving him a reminder that I'm thinking about him.

A moment passes of just me watching Fred as he scratches out his thoughts with quill and parchment. It gives me a flashback to Jessie sitting with a boyfriend who had just gotten a new video game. Finally, I said, "Fred, have you noticed that something is missing?"

Fred rubs his right eyebrow with the hand that he is holding his quill with. "I know, I know," He said. But does he really? "It needs a salutation. But I think Dear Angelina would be something our Mum would write. Hi is too casual. It should be funny, shouldn't it? I mean, I'm funny. She'll expect it to be funny".

Aw, yes. First love. I have forgotten how all-consuming it can be. Fred somehow seemed to believe that I knew what was in his stupid letter. "I meant in the room, Fred. What's missing?"

Slightly cross-eyed from focusing on one object for so long, Fred turns to look at me from over his shoulder. He squints his eyes as if he can read the answer on my face. I keep my expression neutral. There's really not anything Fred is doing that is wrong. But with a family as big as ours, someone's toes will always be stepped on. We don't need to be apologetic about it, but we do need to be sensitive. Especially us triplets, since we have plans that will change the course of our futures. If they haven't already. When it becomes apparent that I'm not going to give him any clues, Fred glances around. He starts by the furthest corner by the door and ends over by the boys' shared wardrobe. If he gets this wrong, I might have to throw something at him. "Where's George?" Fred asked, sounding like a father that forgot to pick his kid up from the babysitter.

"Outside" I answered as Fred shifts so he could look at me again. "flying around and looking like a sad goose without a gaggle".

"What's a gaggle?" Fred asked.

Not what I wanted him to take away from that statement. "you know, a gaggle. Like a herd of horses, a flock of birds" I explained through examples, talking with my hands. "… a gaggle of geese".

"And why do you think George looks like a goose?" Fred asked, snickering over the last word.

I rolled my eyes and ran a hand over the top of my head to pull hair out of my face. "When someone is flying around in circles by themselves at a slow speed, they look like a depressed goose. How about we focus on why one-third of us looks sad."

Fred sets his quill down and turns until he's sitting sideways in his chair. His eyebrows slanted inwards in an expression of concern. "Jolly Holly, do you we need to have a talk?"

I shifted my eyes left and right. Is there is a correlation between the Y chromosome and being dense? "That is literally what we are doing right now". I said speaking slowly. If it's not magic, sports or humor related it goes straight over Fred's head. George's too. Maybe it's a developmental thing.

It was Fred's turn to roll his eyes. "Yeah, metaphorically right? George's fine and it's you who's the sad goose". I could feel my eyes bulging. How did he get **that** out of **that?** "Did Pucey do something? Cause you know we have been working on something that would make his nose bleed for an endless amount of time". Merlin, kill me.

"Let's go back to the fact that George is the one who isn't here and I am. Remember, when you looked around the room and realized that George isn't here?" And Fred just stares. "And the fact that you didn't even realize that he wasn't here…." Still nothing. "and that I had to point it out to you".

Fred's face blanched as the dots connected. "You're right", he said, running an ink-stained hand down his face. "What's wrong with George?" The million-dollar question, right there.

* * *

"This isn't what I had in mind when you invited me over to study", Adrian snarked. We were sitting in the upstairs window seat, the one that faces the garden, since Ginny was in our shared bedroom, and Adrian and I were not allowed to be behind closed doors together.

"Shh," I hushed him, flapping a hand in his general direction as I leaned closer to the glass. "This is important".

I could feel Adrian's eyes on me, asking for more information. But my focus remained on the front garden. I had spent the majority of the day helping Fred figure out what was bugging George, sort out his own feelings, and make some sort of plan about how he could talk to George. Because the three of us can not be out of sorts for any reason. The world stops turning and nothing makes sense when the three of us are out of whack.

I hear a thump as Adrian closes his potions book. I'm glad that he's getting on board. "He's talking with his hands," I said, speaking about Fred who was standing in front of George by Mum's vegetable garden. "Do you think their positive or negative hand gestures?" I asked. Of course, the time I spent with Fred was about how we could help George feel better without ignoring his own feels for Angelina. But I know my brothers. Even if they accomplish every milestone and solve every problem together, they are still competitive as brothers tend to be. Both of them liking the same girl might be more than we can handle.

"I think," Adrian said, as he placed his hand on top of mine. "That whatever they're doing doesn't concern us and they don't need you to sort out whatever is happening down there". He waved his free hand at the window.

I looked away so I could frown at him. "It's a triplet thing. You wouldn't understand". I said before turning back to the window. It looked like George's turn to talk. He had his arms crossed, but at least he was looking Fred in the eyes.

Adrian sighs, tugging on my hand to draw me back in. "It's a good thing you're good at multitasking". Willingly, I allow my whole body to turn towards Adrian. If he was about to make a point, I wanted to make sure I could blunt it. I liked our back and forth too much to allow either of us to actually one-up the other. "Otherwise, I don't think I would ever be able to hold your attention," Adrian said softly, his voice acting as a beacon designed to draw me in. I didn't think this was the type of point he was going to make. I was expecting something more sarcastic.

Falling into an instinctual drive, I lean in until I am breaching Adrian's personal space. If he's not going to be sarcastic, then neither will I. "On the contrary", I said, matching his volume. "You are the best distraction I've ever had".

"Yeah?" Adrian asked, leaning in closer.

"Yeah," I agreed, setting the scene taking place in the garden aside for the moment. What can I say? Just like my brothers, I can also be competitive. And it's been a very long time since I've last kissed a boy. Fourteen years to be specific.

"What are you doing?" A high-pitched voice asked.

Immediately, Adrian squints his eyes shuts and moves back as far as the window seat will allow. He sighs and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Ginny!" I complained as I moved back to my original spot, creating a socially acceptable amount of space between me and Adrian. I even go as far as turning my body away from the boy so I can fully glare at my little sister.

And like most little siblings, my ire is completely lost on her. She stands at the top of the stairway with a book in her hand. "Can I join you?" She asked.

"No, go away," I said, shortly. And while I wouldn't usually talk to her like that, my words are completely justifiable. It doesn't feel good to be gearing up for a major milestone in your second life (such as a first kiss) only to be disturbed by your little sister. And now the mood was officially shot.

Still, she is persistent. The litter bugger. "But I thought since I am going to start school this year, I should study with you guys".

With his face a little red, Adrian coughs as he picks up his potions book. I don't blame him. If Ginny wasn't my sibling, I would have done the same. I take a deep breath before saying as evenly as I could, "Ginny, there's nothing for you to study. Why don't you…. I don't know", I admitted with a wave of my hand as I tried to think of something. "Go draw a picture for Mum".

Ginny huffs as if I'm the one that just spoiled a potentially important moment. "I'm too old to do that. I'm a Hogwarts student now", she said. Even going as far as straightening her spine in an effort to make herself seem more mature. Merlin, kill me.

But before I can open my mouth and let out exactly what I thought Ginny's misconceived maturity, Pucey grabbed my hand again. "Holly", he said with his voice harder than before. He had my full attention at once. "I don't know who is who, but I think one of your brothers just punched the other.

"What!" I sputtered as I spun around on the window seat and pressed my face up against the glass. Fred and George had never fought before. Bicker? Sure. Argue? Of course. They are brothers after all. But never had they physically lashed out at each other. Out in the Garden, was George, standing over Fred. Fred sat on his bum in the grass, with one of his hands covering his nose and mouth. While George was yelling something at him; waving his arms around like a mad man. My fingers started to twitch as I struggled to think of something I could do. That hadn't been a part of Fred's and my plan!

"I'll go tell Mum" Ginny declared before I heard her clomping down the stairs in an attempt to be helpful.

With Adrian still holding my hand, I look over at the boy. Why was he the least complicated thing in my life? "I think the next time we study we should go to your house".


	34. 21st Brightest Star

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

21st Brightest Star

We've been trying to study together off and on all summer. But we never get a whole lot done. Sometimes because Ginny wants to be included. Other times because we get distracted. But today, our lack of academic focus was due to something completely different. Sitting diagonally from each other, in the Pucey's dining room, Adrian stared at me, eye twitching as he silently commiserated. I stare right back at him, biting my lip and trying to keep everything in. Adrian's dad stood behind him. He was muttering to himself as he held an open leather journal and a self-inking quill in one hand while taking measurements of Adrian's head. He was using one of those head circumference tools with the long curved pointy legs. I don't know what they're called. Mr. Pucey adjusted the angle a few times, tightening and loosening it. All the while not telling Adrian what he was doing or why. The beautiful thing is that Mr. Pucey had just walked in and started without any form for greetings or recognition. And while Adrian looked annoyed in his usual expression, he didn't seem surprised so I assumed that his dad collecting random bits of data from him was the norm.

Mr. Pucey finished with an "ah-ha!" He set the head measurement thingy on the dark oak of his dining room table that sat eight comfortably. With his now free hand, Mr. Pucey takes his quill and starts to jot down whatever he just discovered. Adrian bowed his head as if praying for it all to be over.

"Mr. Pucey", I started, causing Adrian to snap his head up and shake it fervently at me. I grinned at him in response. "What are you doing?"

Mr. Pucey looks up from his journal and beams at me. While his son adopts a glare as sharp as knives. But it was one of his expressions that I as coming immune to. Likewise, Adrian had learned that if I grin, I am up to something. It's a Weasley trait. "An excellent inquiry, young lady" Mr. Pucey exclaimed. "I am learning new things, asking questions, and exploring where they take me". Mr. Pucey finished whatever he was writing with a tap of quill tip to page. "It also never hurts to get a head start on Christmas". I was only able to think of one word; what? Mr. Pucey nodded once, proud as he used the hand that holds the quill to stroke the top of Adrian's short hair. I had to bite my lip again, while Adrian was refusing to react. Mr. Pucey began to hum to himself as he plucked a singular hair from the top of his sone's head. He held it up to his eye level and became so enraptured with it that he appeared to be crossed eyed as he walked out of the dining room. He left his head measuring tool behind.

Adrian rubbed the top of his head once Mr. Pucey's back, staring after his father's disappearing back. With a sigh, he picked up his father's tool and slid it to the center of the table. The Puceys had an interesting centerpiece. It wasn't a flower arrangement or candlesticks or something more ornament. Instead, there was a miscellaneous pile of tools, knuts, bolts, and half-constructed objects. Apparently, it was common for Mr. Pucey to leave his projects around the house as he frequently got distracted when something new grabbed his attention. It happened enough that Mr. Pucey's unfinished inventions could be found all over the house. "So", I started to ask as Adrian gets posed to return to his transfiguration work. "What does your dad get you for Christmas?"

Adrian looks at me for a long while. In a way that makes me think he's contemplating telling me. But he settles for, "let's actually get something done today. My mother has been questioning the validity of our study sessions".

I blushed and looked down at my charms book. Flashing back to that private conversation I had with my mum. Yeah, my mum was asking herself the same thing. We may be worked for a minute before I felt a shoe nudge mine under the table. I didn't look up but smiled into my book. Our summer assignments were never going to be completed at this rate.

Just like at my house, we don't get a lot of privacy. Mrs. Pucey pops her head in a moment later. She enters the room with an amused, demure smile on her face. The way her full-length skirt flowed, it made it look like she was gliding instead of walking. "It's so nice to see the two of you diligently studying. When I was your age and on study dates, I was too busy flirting to actually take in any information". She spoke with confidence and a lithe of that suggested humor.

Adrian and I responded instantaneously. His foot moved away from mine and we both straighten in our seats, refusing to look at each other. But stealing a glance at Adrian's mum showed her wearing an all-knowing smile as she slid into the chair across from me and next to Adrian's left-hand side. How is it that mothers know everything? Mrs. Pucey allows us to bask in our embarrassment. Pleased with what she had accomplished here.

* * *

It was getting easier and easier to relax around Adrian. In the beginning, he was just the boy I enjoyed casually flirting with to annoy my brothers. Then after his grand reveal of being the reincarnation of Regulus Black, flirting became hard and I got goosebumps whenever he was near. But we worked through it. Thank Merlin we did, because I find myself confiding in him more and more often. Especially now with Fred and George being at odds. Though he still gives me goosebumps, but for an entirely different reason.

It was a warm summer night. Warm enough that we didn't need any extra coverings as we laid on our backs in the grass in the Pucey's back garden. The Puceys, like a lot of wizarding families, did not live close to any neighbors. In fact, their country-side manor looking house was the only structure I could see. It was a rare occasion, in the sense that there was currently not a signal cloud in the sky. The only lights were coming from the rarely seen stars and the lights from the Pucey's kitchen windows. No doubt, the very same windows his parents were using to spy on us. But we were ignoring them. Adrian had his hand under mine so that I could mirror his position with our index fingers pointed out, and our arms stretched towards the sky. "From here to there," Adrian said as he moved our hands "is the constellation of Leo".

"And it's supposed to look like a lion?" I asked as I tilted my head until it was resting on his shoulder. I felt Adrian tense at the extra contact, but just as quickly he loosened back into the cradle of the grass.

He hummed an affirmative answer. "It's one of the easier constellations to spot". Adrian explained as he moved our hands to a different string of stares. "See, over there is the big dipper". He guides our hands in tracing the giant spoon in the sky. "It points at Leo. That is how a lot of people find it". Adrian said softly as we returned to the lion. "At the lion's head is the brightest star in the constellation". He narrowed us down to a signal star. "That", he spoke slowly. "Is Regulus". He lowered our arms back down to our sides.

I could feel his eyes on me as I continued to gaze up at his star, so I slide my hand from the top of his until it was in a position that we could hold hands, palm to palm. "The brightest star in Leo" I parroted as I turned away for the night sky to gaze at the boy lying next to me.

Our eyes fixated on each other. "The twenty-first brightest star in the sky". I was informed as he squeezed my hand. "I always wondered why Regulus' parents didn't name Sirus Regulus", Adrian decided to share. "Leo represents a lion and Sirus was the one to be sorted into Gryffindor". I rolled Adrian's words around in my head. It occurred to me, that he probably didn't know that his past brother had an animagus form of a dog, and therefore being named after the dog star was comically appropriate. "Of course,", Adrian continued. "They weren't planning on him being in Gryffindor".

I wiggled until I was closer to Adrian with my forehead next to his chin and lying on his shoulder. "It's hard to picture you as anyone other than Adrian. I know I call you Reggie when I'm annoyed, but I think you are exactly who you are meant to be".

Adrian shifted so that his head was resting on mine. "It is hard to imagine that if we had met in our past lives that we probably wouldn't have even looked at each other", Adrian said. It was a strange thought that had strange feelings attached to it. For one thing, if we had met in our first lives, Regulus would have been significantly older than Jessie. We probably would have disliked each other just on principle. Not to mention that with Jessie being a muggle and American and Regulus being a wizard and British, we would have never crossed paths. But that got me thinking about past lives in general.

"There's something that I want to ask you," I said because there is really no one else I know who I could ask. "You said once that you were alive as Adrian before your life as Regulus ended. What was that like? Did you feel anything off when you were alive in two different places?" It was something that had been in the back of my mind ever since I had used a computer at the muggle library with Dad.

"Not really" Adrian answered. "I don't really remember the first three years of this life. It was too weird being a small child again and answering to a different name to take stock of any other feelings or sensations. Though, I think I felt it when Regulus died. Like I couldn't breathe. Mother thought I was having an asthma attack despite never having one before. That's when I told them about everything that I remembered". It wasn't a lot of information, but it had my stomach-churning. Would I have to feel what it's like to be stabbed in the stomach all over again? "Why are you asking?" Adrian asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I answer with another question. "If you were old enough when Regulus died, would you have tried to save him? Even if it meant that Adrian would cease to exist?"

There was a pause in our conversation. Either Adrian didn't understand the question or he didn't have an answer. It was a very weird question after all. Adrian repeated himself. "why?"

I sighed and nestled my head further on his shoulder. "I think that the same thing is going to happen to me. That I am going to exist in two different places at the same time." We lay in silence for a moment. I know Adrian wants me to explain further, but it takes me a moment to collect my thoughts. "At first, I thought that I had been reborn into a completely different world. There was no magic in my first life", I admitted. It was my way of ignoring the whole _Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling_ topic. But Adrian interpreted it differently.

He snorted. "Of course, you weren't aware of magic. You were a muggle. It would have been completely undetectable to you".

I choose to keep talking. "But the other day, Dad talked me into showing him how a computer works. I got curious and typed in the school my past life used to…. Will attend and recognized one of the professors. I was… Jessie was born in 1993, which is next year, so…." I trailed off, not really knowing how to express what I was thinking about or feeling.

Luckily, Adrian knew. "Your soul will be in two separate bodies at the same time".

"Yeah" I agreed. And that led to the second part of my question. Do I save Jessie? Was it my responsibility to do so? Technically, the second wizarding war would be over before Jessie is murdered. I could save both Fred and her. It's just I wasn't sure if I wanted Jessie to live. I was very content being Holly. Especially when in the present company. But, did I have a moral obligation to prevent my own death? If I did, then what would happen to Holly? "I don't know what to do". I admitted.

Adrian took his time. Squeezing my hand as he thought. "I wouldn't give up being Adrian for anything" He finally said. "I couldn't have saved Regulus, but I don't think I would have either. I knew I was going to die and I was prepared for it. Coming back as Adrian was a miracle". Adrian's voice deepened considerably. "Meeting you was a gift from Merlin".

My whole body tingled at his words. "Do you think that I'll die once Jessie is born?" I didn't see how that would be possible but it was a fear that had been growing in my mind.

"We know from my experience that it is possible for a soul to exist in two different places at once", Adrian said. "So, I think you're safe. But if something does happen, don't worry. I am not letting you go anytime soon. I promise". He spoke so assuredly that my heart skipped a beat. The emotions I was feeling right now were stronger than anything I had ever felt as Jessie.

* * *

That night, when I stepped out of the fireplace at the burrow, I immediately made eye-contact with Mum. She was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea with her knitting bag sitting by her feet. My heart was racing slightly, so I took a deep breath and pushed some hair out of my face all the while feeling like I was coming out of a dream. Mum eyed me suspiciously. "Did you have a nice time?" She asked.

I nodded, moving until I could lean against the wall. "Yes", I answered, not quite sure how to give more detail. I kind of felt like I wanted to keep today's study session between Adrian and me. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Pucey knew what we had been doing so it wasn't that private.

But a one-word answer isn't good enough for Mum. It rarely is. "You were there for a long time. You two were studying, weren't you?" The way she said studying, made it sound like we were doing everything but studying. Mum knows me very well.

"Yes", I said again as I stared up at the ceiling. "We studied. I stayed for dinner and then we studied some more".

Mum hummed in disbelieve. "What did you work on?" She asked.

I sighed. "Astronomy" I answered, sounding far more dramatic than I would have liked. Especially because it compelled me to say more than I normally would. But this is my mum. If I can't bare my heart to her, we wouldn't have a very good mother-daughter relationship. "Hey, Mum?"

"Hmm?" Mum hummed at me as she took a sip of her tea.

"I think that I might have feelings for Adrian. Feelings that go deeper than a simple crush". I knew what I meant, but I was unclear if Mum knew. I had felt this way once before. Not in this life, but as Jessie. Those feelings were strong too. Stronger than what I was currently feeling for Adrian. Although, anything I had with Adrian at this point was still new.

Mum gave me a dumbfounded look as she placed down her teacup and turned in her chair to face me squarely. "Holly", she said slowly to make sure she had my attention. When I looked away from the ceiling back at her, Mum said, "you're just now figuring that out?"

"What?" I asked. I guess she doesn't know exactly where I am coming from.

Mum shook her head, bemused. "I could have told you myself you had feelings for that boy ever since he was here for your fourteenth birthday".

"We weren't that obvious".

Mum snorted in a very Ron-like fashion. I think I have stated it before. The Weasley sense of humor comes from Mum's side of the family. "You two were sitting so close your noses were almost touching". Having no way to rebuttal or refute Mum's claim, my face flushes and I turn to leave the room. But Mum calls me back. "So, when is the next study session?" She asked. I ignored her sagacious tone.

With a shrug, I answered. "We didn't make any plans. But I did invite him to join us when we go to Diagon Alley". I figured that I would need Adrian to act as some sort of buffer in case Fred and George were still fighting.

Mum smiled. "That's looking to be quite the trip. Your father is going to take the day off of work to come with us. I believe Percy is trying to coordinate with Penelope so they can meet up. Ron is trying to do the same with Harry and Hermione. You should invite Adrian's parents as well. Dad and I would like to have a chance to get to know them better".

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "Are you asking to meet Penelope's parents too?" Because if it's just Adrian's, then I'd say this is a double standard.

Mum never stopped smiling. "No, but Penelope has never made any comments about wanting to traditionally court Percy". Touché.


	35. Setting the Stage

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Setting the Stage

Out of all the things that could be different, Harry and Adrian having a friendly relationship wasn't something I had considered. And yet, here is the to of them standing in front of the quidditch supply shop with Ron as they gush over a Nimbus 2001. Well, Ron and Harry are gushing. Adrian is simply nodding in agreement with every assessment. Boys. "It's the same one the seeker from the Falmouth Falcons had", Harry commented. Apparently, Sirus had been taking Harry to professional quidditch games this summer.

Adrian nods again with his arms folded across his chest as he peers into the shop window. "He did pull off some impressive feints with it". Evidently, Adrian had also been invited to these excursions. It's how he and Harry had formed a somewhat functioning friendship. Who would have guessed?

"Imagine what the Chudley Cannons could accomplish if they had them", Ron joined in with wonder etched into his tone.

Standing behind the three boys, I rolled my eyes. This was not how I imagined the day. But I suppose I shouldn't complain. Harry was safe with Sirus. We didn't have to steal Dad's flying car and no one had a reason to travel down Knockturn Alley. What's more, I didn't have to spend the afternoon standing between a terse Fred and George. They were better, but not one-hundred percent. It took me locking them both into the broom cupboard to get them on speaking terms. And a reminder of the impending peril our little sister might be facing if we didn't intercept the diary, to get them to work together. As the boys continued with their praise of a lifeless object, I was momentarily distracted by a wanted poster magically stuck to the wall of the shop next to the quidditch supply shop. The hunt for Quirrell was ongoing. In the sense that there was a warrant out for his arrest for child endangerment because of everything that happened last year. But despite the search lasting the entire summer, it never extended past the United Kingdom. I think the posters were just a response to the Daily Prophet Articles. We wouldn't be seeing Quirrell again until he wanted us to see him.

Harry, the one with manners, turns away from the window and breaks me out of my thoughts. "Holly, what do you think?" He asked. During the short amount of time Harry had lived with Sirus, he had grown in body and confidence. As evident by his waning scrawniness and referring to me by my first name. During the last school year, Harry kind of waited for me to initiate a conversation before talking to me.

I think it's a magical stick with twigs attached. And I opened my mouth to say just that when Ron cuts me off. "Don't bother", he said with a roll of his eyes. "She doesn't fly. Dad tried to teach her, but every time she hides behind Percy until he gives up". Ron finished with an accusatory look. In his book, it's a crime to dislike anything possibly related to quidditch.

I shrug. Of course, I hide behind Percy. He's the only other Weasley kid that shares my view on flying. "I prefer to keep my feet on the ground", I answered.

While Harry shoots me a pitying look, apparently I am missing out, Adrian adopts a smirk. "Did Holly ever tell you about our first flying lesson at Hogwarts?" Adrian asked Ron. Oh, Merlin.

Ron turns his full body to face the older boy. "No", he exclaimed, leaning forward ever so slightly in excitement. Brat. "What happened?"

Although he is talking to my little brother, Adrian only has eyes from me. I shake my head at him, but it doesn't dissuade him. "We were doing the normal things; mounting, hovering a few inches, and touching back down". I sighed when I realized the sharing of this story was inevitable. "Madam Hooch was having us go one at a time to grade us. Holly made sure she was the last person in line". Ron was staring at me in absolute glee. This was it. The moment he got something to hold over my head. It was a younger sibling's dream. "When it was her turn, Madam Hooch looked at her expectantly and told her to hurry up. Do you remember what you said, Holly?"

Yes. "No, I do not," I said darkly.

Adrian's smirk grew. "She said, 'no thank you. I would like to fail this class so no one can pressure me into flying for the rest of my life.' So Madam Hooch asked Holly if she was afraid of heights. And Holly said, 'no, I'm just not striving for a higher education. I don't want to put myself above others". At this point, I dropped my head and was covering my face with my hands. We all have things from when we were eleven-years-old that's embarrassing. This is one of mine. Adrian is smiling. Actually smiling when he continued, "Madam Hooch looked pained at this point. But your brothers", Adrian gestured at Ron. "Made it worse by yelling out, 'sorry Madam Hooch, Holly's always been a little short', and 'She's not one to rise above the situation'". Adrian breaks to snicker to himself along with Harry, who seemed to appreciate the play on words.

"What did Hooch do?" Ron asked, stepping closer to Adrian in the process.

"She made Holly participate". I groaned into my hands. "So, Holly mounted the broom with her eyes closed. She has no problem kicking off and hovering a few inches".

"Really?" Ron broke in, voice rising in pitch.

I picked my head out of my hands long enough to frown at my little brother. He makes it sound like I am absolutely helpless. "She was fine", Adrian assured him. "Until Hooch asked her to land". Adrian paused to snicker to himself. Git. Unfortunately, he was able to regain control of himself. "But instead of tilting the broom handle down, Holly leaned forward". Adrian emphasized the word leaned as Ron and Harry gasped. Who knew he was a story-teller? "Of course, she shoots forward straight at Hooch. Hooch dodged, but Holly flew dead centered into a tree trunk, and the broom she was flying snapped in half".

Ron full out laughs in a hunched over position. He's forgetting that since I am older, I know more embarrassing stories about him than he has on me. I'll have to remind him of that pretty soon. Harry, on the other hand, has gone red as he tries not to follow suit. "Were you okay?" He asked me, each word pronounced between strained breaths.

"She was fine", Adrian answered for me, looking pleased with himself. "She sat up after a moment, holding her head and asked if she could be excused from flying class for the rest of the school year. Hooch refused". With Ron still busting a gut, Harry eventually breaks and the two twelve-year-olds put their heads together to laugh at my expense. Adrian steps away from the shop window to stand next to me.

"Have fun, did you?" I asked.

"Yes, I did," Adrian said. "I love that story. It's the first time I realized you existed".

I wanted to retort, because how could I not? But I don't get the chance when the adults find us. "Looks like you lot are having fun", Sirus said as he approached and took in the hysterical forms of his godson and Ron. "What did I miss?" He asked as Dad and Mr. Pucey came up behind him. The three men had left us to our own devices in front of the quidditch shop to duck into nearby haberdashery since we had time before we had to be at Flourish and Blots to meet up with the others.

Dad smiled at us as he rubbed Ron's back to help him calm down while Harry answered his godfather. "Adrian told us a funny story", he said, kindly leaving me out.

"Really?" Sirus asked in disbelief before he looked at Adrian. "But you're not funny".

Adrian lost his amused smile for a light-hearted scowl. It appears that sibling rivalry can last across lifespans.

* * *

"The legend of the Chamber of Secrets", I read out from a copy of Hogwarts, A History to Ginny as we stood; waiting in Flourish and Blots for Mum to finish gawking at Gildroy Lockhart. "Is one of the most mysterious stories surrounding the founders of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry." It may be foolhardy to inform Ginny about what is currently lurking under the school and to give her a hint about what may take place this year. But just in case today's endeavor got out of hand, I felt the urge to give her some sort of knowledge. Even if it was too subtle for her to pick up on. "At the time that the school was first formed, magical folk were undergoing persecution from the non-magical world. As a careful precaution, the founders; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin, built their school a great distance away from the muggle world". I was speaking softly and reading slowly. That way I had time to pause between paragraphs and sentences to take quick peeks around the shop. Our relatively large group had broken off and were scattered around the book store with Fred, George, and I stationing ourselves to be on the lookout for Malfoy Sr. or his son. "It took many years for the school to be built and students to be found. Partially due to a disagreement between Slytherin and the other founders. He wanted admittance to Hogwarts to be limited to only those who descended from magical families as he believed anyone not from this background to be a danger to the magical way of life". Adrian, Ron, and Harry had stayed together once we had got to the bookstore. I could see them standing in the sports section, looking at what appeared to be a book of quidditch world records. I rolled my eyes. With me coordinating with Adrian, Ron coordinating with Harry, and Percy coordination with Clearwater, Granger had sadly been left out of this shopping trip. Although that might be for the best. Malfoy Sr. will have one less thing to critique our family about; giving Dad one less reason to fight him. If we encountered them at all. "While the other founders felt that any child with magical ability required a magical education and should be given protection from persecution in the outside world". I could see Dad too. He was standing off by the till in deep conversation with Mr. Pucey. What about; I had no idea. Likewise, Mum was standing in line to see her favorite author with Mrs. Pucey. Although Mum seemed to be doing all the talking, with Mrs. Pucey kindly nodding along. Somehow, I highly doubted that Mrs. Pucey gave two licks about the five-time winner of Witch Weekly's most charming smile award. "Gryffindor was Slytherin's biggest advisory in this disagreement. Eventually, the unwaning conflict between the two led to Slytherin leaving the school for good". I couldn't see Percy. I lost sight of him the minute he entered the shop with Clearwater. In a way, I was okay not knowing where my older brother was. He was not a part of the plan Fred, George, and I had concocted, and I didn't really want to know what he and Miss Clearwater were doing. What did concern me was Sirus standing with Fred and George at the entrance of the shop with their heads bent together like they were best friends again. This was the closet Fred and George had stood together since their spat. Fred and George were planning on standing there just in case the scene from the books played out or in case the Malfoys were not yet in the shop. Of course, we had no way of knowing if the Malfoys would come at all. What if this was not the day that the Weasleys had gone back-to-school shopping in the book? But what I was more concerning was what Sirus Black could possibly be saying to my brothers to make them so chummy. They were wearing the expressions that they generally have reserved for when they are conspiring mischief with Lee. Oh, bother. "The legend of the Chamber of Secrets stems from Slytherin's departure from education. It is said that Slytherin had erected a hidden chamber buried beneath the school without any of the founders knowing. It is believed that the chamber is sealed to all by his true heir. Only the heir will be able to open the chamber and release a nightmare within- a nightmare that can purge the school of all whose Slytherin decreed as being unworthy to study magic. However, many searches of Hogwarts have been conducted and many agree that the chamber does not exist as no evidence has ever been found".

"I think it's funny," Ginny said once I had finished the passage and had closed the book.

"What's funny?" I asked, calmly. But on the inside, I was celebrating. This was great. If I could have an analytic discussion with Ginny about what we just read, then maybe she would be a little more aware of things going on this school year. Fred, George, and I were unsure about what we wanted to do once we had the diary. Of course, it needed to be destroyed. But I could only remember two ways to destroy a Horcrux. One was to throw it into fiendfyre. Unfortunately, none of us had the magical prowess to make or control fiendfyre. Perhaps, after we completed our OWLS. The second way was Gryffindor's sword made stronger with basilisk venom. But in order to get that sword, the events of the Chamber of Secrets would have to be played out. Which we were not going to let happen. Not when it was our younger brother and sister sitting in the crosshairs. So, every semblance of a plan we had at this point was up in the air.

"That the boy I like, and the boy you like are friends". Merlin! I dropped my head and thumped my forehead onto the book. When did Ginny develop a one-tracked mind? I must have missed it. I picked up my head to follow Ginny's line of sight. She stares into the sports section where the boys were still pouring over the quidditch world records book. "Harry's so cool that he can hang out with older boys like Adrian". She just about gushed.

"Ginny", I groaned out a complaint. "Did you hear anything I just said?" Because I surely did not just read Hogwarts, A History for my own pleasure".

"Yeah, yeah", she quickly assured me without looking away from the three boys over yonder. "There's a chamber at Hogwarts with something inside to get rid of anyone not magical, but it's not real'. Well, that was half right, I suppose. "Holly, do you think Harry likes me?"

This was proof that despite what one may believe, puppy love was not cute in the slightest. It took me a minute to respond as I searched for the right words. "Have you ever said more than two words to him?" I asked. Harry had been over a few times this summer to visit with Ron, but as far as I was aware, Ginny clammed up and disappeared into our room whenever that happened. "Ginny, he doesn't know you so how could he like you?"

Ginny persisted; logic evidently lost on her. "But if he did know me, would he like me?"

Bloody hell. With a voice lacking intonation I said, "you need a hobby".

Confused at my words, Ginny stops staring at the boy-who-lived to look up at me with a wrinkled nose. But thanks to Gildroy Lockhart, she didn't get a chance to question me. We knew the famous author had arrived when all the middle-aged witches started gasping and the flash of a reporter's camera went off. Distracted, Ginny edged onto her tiptoes to try to see around the sea of pointed witch hats. Her newly purchased, second-hand cauldron swinging by its handle on the crook of her bent elbow. Being taller than my sister, I was able to just make out Lockhart's glistening blonde head. "What a lovely sight, what a lovely sight". I heard as Lockhart drew the room to order. Though he took his time about it as the reporter was still snapping pictures. I wondered if he was posing. "So nice to see so many of my fans gathered in one place". I rolled my eyes and glanced over to the front door. I had always found the appeal of celebrities, fraudulent or not, to be lackluster.

Sirus was still standing with my brothers, but their heads were no longer bent together. Instead, Sirus had his back to the entrance and my brothers as he talked to a tall opposing man with long sheer blonde hair. Game time. With the palms of my hands starting to moisten, I place Hogwarts, A History back on the self. "Ginny", I said to gain the eleven-year-old's attention. "It's going to get very crowded in here. Let's go over to where Fred and George are". I spoke as I was already starting to inch my way in their direction.

"What? But I want to watch". Ginny interjected.

"We can watch from over there", I argued and continued to walk away, trusting that Ginny would follow me. And luckily, I was right.

Fred saw us approaching before George. He gave a subtle incline of his head. My signal to hurry up. We had gone back and forth about if we wanted Ginny to be anywhere near Malfoy Sr. Our end goal for today was to gain possession of the diary and it would be easier to get the diary from Ginny without her finding out about it than it would be to get the diary from Malfoy down the line. "-Narcissa will be interested to hear about our encounter here today", Malfoy Sr. said as Ginny and I came to stand between Fred and George, effectively blocking the shop doors. It seems we had arrived just in time to catch the tail end of the exchange between Malfoy and Sirus.

'I don't see why" Sirus snarled, angling his body slightly closer to us when Malfoy's eyes flashed in our direction.

"Well, we are family", Malfoy sneered. "And I imagine that you'll need to contact us eventually to name our son your heir. Since he's the only one with Black blood born in this generation". Malfoy spoke his words very pointedly, causing me to roll my eyes. Ugh, pureblood politics. "Unless, of course", Malfoy started again with a poised eyebrow. I wonder if he just likes to hear himself talk. "you are planning on procuring an heir?"

"I already have an heir", Sirus adamantly stated as he roughly nodded his head in the direction of the sports section.

Malfoy took his time as he slowly glanced over his shoulder. "Ah, yes. Your Godson, the boy-who-lived". He was quicker to look back at Sirus than he was to look away. "But still, not a Black, is he?"

Sirus folded his arms across his chest. "Neither is your spawn".

With his lips pursed, Malfoy didn't comment as he looked behind Sirus and scanned us. "We had hoped that your time in Azkaban would have reminded you what side you should have been on. Though judging by the companying you're keeping, evidently, you weren't in there long enough".

We never got to hear whatever brilliant retort Sirus surely had on the tip of his tongue, because Harry, with Ron and Adrian in tow, chose that moment to wander over. He had the book of quidditch world records tucked under his arm, and was looking at Sirus eagerly, but slowed and proceeded with caution when he read the scene. "Sirus?" Harry asked tentatively once he was in hearing distance.

Adrian must have read the atmosphere as well because he quickly lost the relaxed posture, he had all afternoon for a more rigid one. Leaving Ron and Harry, he skirted around Malfoy Sr. and his brother from another life. "Everything alright?" He whispered, practically pushing George out of the book store as he came to stand next to me.

I nodded my answer, hoping that would suffice to keep him uninvolved. No sense in risking getting him involved with the Chamber of Secrets. Especially after the end of last school year when stated he wanted to just be Adrian.

"Harry", Sirus said in a much more jovial tone, having decided to just ignore the blonde menace standing before him. "Find anything good? Should we buy it?" He asked, already reaching for the book Harry had on his person.

"Yeah", Harry answered, sounding confused as he allowed Sirus to pull the book out from under his armpit. "I mean, yes please". As Sirus looked at the book cover, Harry's eyes flickered over to Malfoy Sr. I wondered if he was able to match faces and figure out who this man was.

"Quidditch World Records", Sirus read aloud. "Sounds fun. Any you and Ron want to try?"

"Waste of money, if you asked me". A new voice broke in as Malfoy Jr. made an appearance, popping up by his father's elbow. "It's not like you'll break any", Draco said, sneering at his year mates. I glanced at Fred over the top of Ginny's head. Only to see that he was giving me a similar look. Our group was drawing more and more people. More people meant more attention. Would Malfoy Sr. even try to slip Ginny the diary at this rate?

Ever the loyal friend, Ron speaks up; offended on Harry's behalf. "You're one to talk, Malfoy. You're not even on your house team".

Malfoy scowled at my younger brother. "Neither are you. The best a nobody like you can do, Weasley, is spectate and latch on to a famous friend", Malfoy declared, practically spatting the last part in Harry's direction. Holding the quidditch world record book in one hand, Sirus placed an arm over Harry's shoulder and pulled the boy closer to him. Leaving Fred to do the same with Ron. Except Fred chose to haul Ron in by grabbing a fist full of his shirt and pulling.

"Now, now Draco". Malfoy Sr. interjected. "We have to give the Weasley's some credit". The way he says our last name makes my skin crawl. "They have been much more notable as of late with the part they played in freeing your mother's dear cousin". All of this was directed at his son, but Malfoy Sr. kept his eyes focused on us redheads. This has to be it, I thought completely focused on what was playing out before me. But not so focused that I didn't look away when Adrian's hand found mine and held on with an anchoring grip. His hand was as cold and callused as always. Serving as a solid reminder that he was unyieldingly right there. "What did the Daily Prophet say? The Wonder Weasleys?" Malfoy continued, scoffing. Not once, did Adrian look away from the blonde man. So, slowly I redirected my focus back to what my fellow triplets and I were trying to accomplish today. Only to get a jolt when I realized that Malfoy Sr.'s eyes were now fixated on Adrian and me. "And I had heard from my son that the Pucey heir initiated a social pairing with one of the Weasley daughters". His eyes flashed down to Adrian's and my joined hands and back up again. "My, my we are moving up in the world". With his son smirking at his side, Malfoy Sr. moves smoothly as he reached a gloved hand into Ginny's cauldron. "Who knows", he said as he pulled out Ginny's used transfiguration text. "Perhaps the next generation of Weasleys won't even need to buy second-hand books". And he returned it to our sister's cauldron, with a thin black journal concealed behind it and blending in the with pewter metal. Good. "Let's go, Draco" Malfoy Sr. ordered as he started to walk forward. We parted, Fred, Ron, and Ginny on one side. And Adrian, George, and I on the other as the Malfoys stalked out of the bookshop. It seems in this version, Dad didn't even need to get involved.


	36. Magical Me

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Magical Me

"Are all Slytherins like that?" Ginny asked after the Malfoys vanished from our line of sight.

Distractedly, I answered, "no", in a quiet voice.

At the same moment, Ron loudly declared, "yes". Causing Fred, George, and Sirus to snicker, and the lone Slytherin in our midst was singled out.

Snapped out of my thoughts, I turn my head to face my younger brother. "No", I said more firmly as I squeezed Adrian's hand. "No two people are alike".

With that statement, Sirus was able to compose his snickering. It made me wonder if the time he had spent over the summer with the reincarnation of his brother had shown him proof to support my words. But whatever deep thought had been pushed onto Sirus was lost when Ron rolled his eyes and said, "I didn't mean your Slytherin". That only set off more snickering.

I could feel my face heating up. Why did I ever feel like it was a good idea to invite Adrian to go shopping with my family? Of course, I do know the reason and I blame it on the twenty-first brightest star. "I agree", Fred said between sniggers as he pretended to lean on Ginny for support.

"Our Holly has Pucey well trained". George added from behind Adrian and me as he placed his shoulder between us and successfully forced us to separate so he could stand in the middle.

My hand that had been holding Adrian's felt lost the moment we broke contact. "Pucey doesn't act like a Slytherin loose in the wild anymore". Fred continued. It seems that the disagreement Fred and George were going through was placed aside in favor of ribbing Adrian, who had adopted a stony-faced expression at my brothers' teasing.

"You two make it sound like he's a domesticated animal", I complained.

"I think", Harry piped up before any of my brothers could retort. "that Adrian's nice".

Unfortunately, Harry's genuine comment only made my fellow triplets and Sirus chortle harder. Though Ginny was now staring at Adrian in newfound awe. As if Harry's endorsement was all she needed to like the Slytherin boy. However, Adrian seemed to have been personally offended by the sentiment. "Nice has nothing to do with it", he said, flinching at the word nice as he got used to George standing between us. "I just know where I need to be to achieve my ambitions", he said pompously as he straightened his spine to stand taller.

Sirus snorted to cut his sniggering short. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and said, "let's go get the rest of your school books before you are infected with his Slytherin-isms. They're contagious, you know", Sirus joked as he led Harry away. Only pausing to send Adrian a grin over his shoulder. Ron trailed after them.

"So", Fred started as he put on an air of seriousness and stopped using Ginny for support. "What are your ambitions?" He asked Adrian.

"Oh, I think we know Fred", George said as he slung an arm over my shoulders. Yeah, definitely shouldn't have invited Adrian along on this trip.

"Quite right, George".

"We think his ambition…"

"Involves snogging our Jolly Holly". Merlin, kill me.

Almost growling, Adrian said, "I'm going to the arithmancy section". And he rigidly walked away. At that moment, I couldn't discern if he was offended, embarrassed, or biting his tongue because of the eleven-year-old who had been studying this whole exchange.

I glared at Fred. And if George wasn't standing so close to me, I would have done the same to him. Did they really have to become best friends again just in time to torment my friend who may be more than a friend? "Is that what the two of you were doing the other day?" Ginny asked, wide-eyed and curious. Bloody hell.

"Ginny, go find Mum", I ordered. A gentle push from Fred had her complying. If it was just me, she probably would have argued. But pressure from three older siblings might as well be law. I waited until Ginny was out of earshot. "Was that really necessary?" I asked as I shrugged George off.

"It got everyone to leave, didn't it?" George said in an easygoing manner. Fred stepped closer to make our conversation slightly more private. Though we were standing in front of the shop's entrance, so….

"How did you two make up so fast?" I asked. After all, I've been trying to get through to them for days.

"We didn't", Fred assured me. I wrinkled my nose. They were fooling me.

"Sirus gave us some advice".

"Said that we could have as many girls as we can get to date us".

"But it's harder to get back a brother after you've lost him".

"So, we called a truce".

"We'll find a different way to fight for Angelina". My left eye twitched. Ugh, boys. I think they missed a piece of Sirus' supposed advice.

"So, who wants to hold onto this?" Fred asked, uncovering the diary from under his school cloak. He held it out for either George or me to take.

"When did you take it from Ginny's cauldron?" I asked as I reached for the cursed diary. But my hands twitched back from it. I couldn't decide if it was out of fear or self-preservation.

"I slipped it out when everyone was distracted by Pucey's embarrassment", Fred answered as George took the diary and tucked it under our new copy of _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4._ Percy wanted to keep the copy he was given from Charlie's fourth year to use for reference during his NEWT years. So, Mum and Dad relented and said we could buy a new one for the three of us to share. We typically bought everything second hand. But when the plan was to pass it down through the Weasley rank, we'd splurge for something new. Fred and I looked at George inquisitively, expecting the diary to take possession of his soul. When nothing happened, we took a big breath. Though I suppose it was silly. Seeing that Fred had held it previously and was unaffected. Of course, we also knew the only way to get possessed was to pour your heart and soul into it. But we were still scared. It's not every day that we encounter a soul-sucking item.

"What do we do now?" George asked.

"We take it home and keep it safe until we can figure out how to destroy it", I said slowly. Because other than today, we really didn't have a plan or clue about what we were doing.

* * *

"It's Harry Potter!" A jovial voice exclaimed. Causing the bookshop to erupt in cheers and applause. Fred, George, and I looked over to where all the fuss was occurring. Lockhart had left his book signing table and was walking across the room to the till where Harry, Ron, and Sirus were standing. Evidently, this was publicity the famous author couldn't let pass him by. What was surprising was how easily the crowd of middle-aged witches parted to let Lockhart through.

A flash went off. I looked over in the direction of the source in time to see a man with a camera in his hand pushing through Mum, Ginny, and Mrs. Pucey. "Excuse me, Ladies. This is for the Daily Prophet", he shouted over the masses. As if that fact made it okay. Reporters, absolute lowest of the low if you ask me.

Sirus stepped forward and pulled Harry and Ron behind him before Lockhart or the reporter could get too close. Their shopping was left abandoned on the checkout desk behind them. "These boys are minors, and you don't have permission to take their picture", Sirus said curtly to the man with the camera. Then he turned towards Lockhart. "I'll ask you to leave my Godson alone". The crows of middle-aged witches started muttering amongst themselves. It was unclear if they were muttering with approval or disapproval. I imagine it was a mixture of both.

Lockhart wasn't dissuaded. "My word! Sirus Black", Lockhart exclaimed as he grabbed Sirus' hand and shook it in a rapid fashion. "I'm very pleased to meet you, good sir".

Dad appeared as he maneuvered his way through the spectators in our direction as Lockhart went on to say, "I was so sure you were innocent. I could feel it in my gut. So glad someone else connected the dots and you're able to stand here today".

"Boys, Holly", Dad said to gain our attention. "I'll buy these", he said, grabbing the textbook and diary from George's hands.

"No", the three of us immediately sputtered.

Dad talked over us. "You three, go get Ron and Harry and wait outside". He gives each of us a stern look. It's an expression Dad rarely uses. It only comes out when he's concerned with his children's welfare.

"Wait, Dad", Fred said as he tried to stop him. At the same time, George made a move to grab the books back from Dad. But he had already turned away.

Bollocks. My heart beats loudly as we watched Dad trying to maneuver through the crowd again; this time trying to get to the till. "Have you guys noticed that, apart from Pettigrew, our plans never work?"

I scoffed. Is now really the time to be pointing that out? "We have to do something", I said quickly. "If Dad tries to buy the dairy the shop clerk will know it's not a book from their stock. That'll draw attention to it".

Fred nodded once; the wheels in his mind turning. "Holly, you distract Dad. I'll intercept and George will get the diary".

We didn't get wait for any of us to confirm that we understood. All moving at once; we hurried after Dad. He had just reached the area where Lockhart was boasting about knowing that Sirus was innocent along when we caught up.

"Dad", I said when I grabbed his elbow; the one that wasn't attached to the hand that was holding the books.

He turned around and when he saw that it was me that was gripping his elbow, he frowned. "Holly, I asked you to-"

But I cut him off. "Fred's getting Harry and Ron". I said, giving Fred an excuse to push past Dad on his other side and a display of Lockhart's new book, _Magical Me_. Conveniently knocking the books out of Dad's hand. They gave off a thumping sound when they landed on the hardwood floor of the shop. No one paid any mind. A couple of dropped books are easy to ignore when Lockhart was trying to get Sirus Black and Harry Potter to pose for pictures.

"Sorry, Dad", Fred called over his shoulder; keeping up the ruse of getting to Ron and Harry.

Dad pressed his lips together before sighing. "Fred", he complained. Dad moved to pick up the books, but my hold on his arm prevented it. "But what about Ginny?" I continued, trying to hold his attention as George squatted to retrieve the diary. "Shouldn't we get her too? And what about Percy? I don't know where Percy is". I finished talking just as George stood up.

"Holly", Dad started as he removed my hand from his elbow. "Your big brother can take of himself, and Ginny is with Mum. I need you to watch out for Harry and Ron. Boys their age don't need this sort of attention". Arguably, no one needs a celebrity level of attention.

"Here you go, Dad", said George as he handed him _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4._ I stared at George with questioning eyes. Where's the diary? Reading my expression, George tilted his head back, as if trying to nod behind him. He had put it on the _Magical Me_ display.

"Thank you, son", Dad said before he stared down at the textbook; perplexed. "Weren't there two books?"

"No, just the one", George said as I skirted around him to retrieve the diary. It was right behind George on the display. The aged black leather of the diary was a stark contrast to blue and white covers of _Magical Me_ books. Now, how to take it without Dad noticing? I could conceal it under my school cloak. Could I keep one hand and the diary under the cloak until we made it home?

"No", Dad said after he thought about it. "I'm sure you had two books".

"This is the only one Mum said we could get", George replied. I assume he gestured to the textbook when he said that. "I was just looking at the other one. I'll put it back".

"Oh, well", Dad said in a softer voice. "I'm sure we can afford one more book. Can't put a price on knowledge after all. And you never ask for anything, George. You can get a little something extra". I could practically hear the smile in Dad's voice.

"That's okay", George tried again. "I know Lockhart's books aren't cheap and we needed to get four sets since all the years are using the same texts". It was a hardship for our family that a professor was using the same book for every class because it meant we couldn't use our older siblings' hand-me-downs.

"It's fine George", Dad assured. "You deserve just as much as your siblings, and you triplets really helped out when you volunteered to share a set". We usually do share school supplies between the three of us, but this time especially we wanted to make sure Mum and Dad didn't waste money on Lockhart's books. Or at least, not waste any more money than they had too since we knew we wouldn't actually need those books. "What book did you want?"

"Uh, um", George stammered. At this rate, we wouldn't be able to get out of here without buying a second book.

"George", Dad said, getting slightly sterner. "What is it you don't want me to see?" Thinking quickly, I pulled a book cover off a copy of _Magical Me_ and slipped it on the diary. Luckily, it was the same size. Though having a book cover on a leather-bound journal felt weird. At least now it had a price tag.

"Um, uh", George said as he tried to think of something convincing to say.

"This is the one he wanted", I said as I turned around with the disguised diary in hand. "He was embarrassed because it was another Lockhart book", I explained as I gave the diary back to Dad. Though he had to practically pry it from my hand. It just felt wrong to hand my dad a dark artifact of an evil lord.

George's knee jerk reaction was to disagree. "I'm not embar-" But me digging the heel of my foot into his toes was enough to catch George up to speed. "I mean, I just wanted to know what all the fuss is about".

Dad was trying not to show his amusement. I could tell by how frequently he was moving around his jaw. "I'll get these", he said as he nodded to the books he was holding. "You two go help Fred with Ron and Harry".

"I'll stay with you", I said quickly as George went to join Fred. We knew we both couldn't stay with Dad, but someone had to keep an eye on the diary.

Though Fred and George weren't having much luck sneaking Harry and Ron out from under Lockhart's nose. "Let them through" Sirus ordered as Lockhart tried to get Harry to step out from behind Fred and George. And poor Ron, throughout all of this, was standing next to Harry looking completely over the entire situation. I suspect it would be a challenge to get Ron to enter another bookshop after this.

"Now, now", Lockhart said placating to Sirus before speaking directly to my brothers and Harry. "How about I sign your books. You're here to buy my collected works for school, are you not?" Another flash from the reporter's camera went off causing all four boys to flinch.

Dad, catching wind of all this as we reached the till stepped closer. "Boys, this way", he directed. Trying to get the boys to step in front of him and away from Lockhart and the reporter. Before he said directly to the Author without any of his normal cheer. "Please leave the children alone". Fred and George started leading Ron and Harry in my direction.

It was good timing too as Lockhart placed his attention on something else. "Why, you're buying my book", he said to Dad. "Here, let me sign it for you. Since your friends with Mr. Black and Mr. Potter, you can skip the line". Lockhart said good-naturedly as he grabbed the disguised diary from Dad without his permission.

"N-" I started to protest, but I stopped myself. It wouldn't make any sense for me to object to a book being signed by its author.

Dad, however; saw this as a perfect opportunity. "You five, get out of here", he ordered. Gesturing his head in the direction of the door. He really didn't have to tell Ron and Harry twice. Ron grabbed Fred's cloak, and Harry grabbed George's sleeve as they made a break for the exit. And that was without learning that Lockhart was the new defense professor. This was going to be a long year for the two of them.

In the same moment, Lockhart turned towards the store clerk, pausing just long enough for the reporter to take another picture. "Do you have a quill and some ink?" Lockhart asked.

A fluster store clerk quickly fetched Lockhart's required items from under the check-out desk as Ron called over his shoulder. "Holly, let's go. Why are you always so slow?" This brat.

I made a whining sound in the back of my throat as my heart raced and Lockhart inked the borrowed quill and opened the diary to what he thought was the flyleaf page.

"Holly, go with the boys", Dad said in a rare tone of voice that left no room for argument. I made an uncomfortable whining sound again as I turned to obey.

Meanwhile, Lockhart read aloud what he was writing. "To my greatest fans, Gilderoy Lockhart". Oh, Merlin's beard. This isn't good.


	37. The Difficult One

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Difficult One

When we finally make it home, Fred, George, and I book it for their room. George has our portion of the Flourish and Blots shopping under his arm (excluding Lockhart's collected works. We left that downstairs). We didn't even acknowledge Mum when she yelled after us to stop running in the house.

As soon as their bedroom door snaps shut behind us, George tosses the disguised diary onto the foot of Fred's bed. Almost as if it was burning him. But he kept our new standard book of spells book in his hands. Somehow suggesting that it was important to keep the ordinary book separate from the evil book. And then we just stare at it. Unnerved by how harmless it looks covered in a _Magical Me_ book cover sitting on top of Fred's red quilt. I suppose there's no shame in our trepidation. This is our first Horcrux after all.

After a minute passes of us standing and staring in silence, I move forward. There's one thing I need to check before we can start planning our next steps. Or rather, there's one thing I need to do to assuage Jessie's nerd tendencies. I don't pick up the diary, choosing to let it remain on Fred's bed. Instead, I open it to the first page and then turn to the second page for good measure. Blank, absolutely blank. Letting out a big breath of air from my nose, I close the diary and step back. It's as I suspected, but it feels good to double-check. "It's gone", I informed my brothers. "Lockhart's autograph. It's like there was never any ink on the page to begin with".

Fred and George copy my deep exhale from moments ago. "So, this really does contain the soul of You-Know-Who", Fred confirms.

I nod once before correcting, "A fraction of it".

"And now we need to figure out how to destroy it", George concluded in a pensive voice.

We stand in silence for another moment before Fred sighs. He moves to the center of the room; closer to their shared wardrobe and sits on the floor with his front facing the diary. I follow suit; sinking down on my knees until my legs are under me and tilted to the side. I leaned into Fred, who graciously accepts my weight as George situates himself on their desk chair; sitting backward. It seems they weren't so made-up that George was ready to sit shoulder to shoulder on the floor with Fred. "Maybe we should try holy water", I blurted out as the thought suddenly came to me. Ottery St. Catchpole should have a church. If it's Catholic or even Lutheran they should have holy water. I mean, saint is in the town name so chances are their churches would have holy water.

"What the bloody hell is holy water?" Fed asked. I could feel the vibrations of Fred speaking from my spot leaning up against him. It was providing me with a sense of calm I otherwise wouldn't have at this moment.

"It's water that's been blessed by a muggle priest or monk. In their legends, it can get rid of demons", I answered. I felt silly saying all that when, as Holly, I know demons are dark magical creatures, holy water doesn't actually work on them, and a Horcrux is not a demon. But still, the Jessie part of me really wants to try it.

"How about we make that plan Z", George said.

At the same moment, Fred muttered, "How have muggles survived this long?" Yeah, I guess holy water was a stupid idea.

"Holls", George said to get us back on track. "Does this mean Lockhart is going to be possessed?"

I clicked my tongue. It was like George was reading my thoughts. "I don't think so. He'd have to pour his soul into the diary and write a lot in it before You-Know-Who could take control. At least, that's what Ginny had done in _The Chamber of Secrets_ ". By that line of logic, we should still be safe.

"Walk us through this year", Fred requested. "Based on what Jessie knows".

I shrug. Simple enough. But then I struggled to think of a place to start. "Let's start with what we've already changed and go from there", I suggested. "Ginny doesn't have the diary. And we didn't have to break Harry out of his Aunt's and Uncle's house", I list off. I wonder how much longer that list will be by the end of this upcoming school year.

"And we didn't have to fly Dad's car", Fred said, sounding almost disappointed.

"I don't think we need to worry about Dobby the house-elf closing the barrier since Sirus is taking Harry to platform nine and three quarters", I continued. But Dobby was important. Especially in the last book. If he makes an appearance, we should try to help him. But the problem is, in Ron's second year, Dobby only appeared to Harry.

"So, Ron won't have a season to crash Dad's car into the whomping willow", George said as he followed my line of thought.

I nod at George as I tried to keep all of my thoughts organized. "Things that won't change are Nick's Deathday party and Lockhart. We're still stuck with Lockhart", I reasoned. "But since we have the diary, and we're not going to use it the attacks shouldn't happen. Lockhart's dueling club won't happen and Harry won't be outed as a parselmouth".

"And Ron and friends won't have to make potions in the girls' lavatory", Fred continued.

"Or go into the forbidden forest to talk to man-eating spiders. Which is especially good since Dad's car isn't going to be there to help them get out", I added. Merlin, I hadn't really thought about how intercepting the diary would change so much. The butterfly effect, indeed.

"So, we need to focus on destroying the diary", George determined.

"And Dobby", I added. "He won't know where the diary is or that we're trying to destroy it. Or even who has it. He'll just know that Malfoy senior was trying to unleash evil on the school. He might still try to keep Harry safe". Hell, Dobby might not even know how Malfoy planned on terrorizing the school.

Then Fred throws in his input. "There's Malfoy senior too. When it's clear that no one's being attacked, will he look for the diary?" And that is something that none of us have an answer to.

* * *

The last days of summer break passed quickly without Fred, George, or I being able to come up with any sort of concrete plan. Adrian and I mutually decided to stop our study sessions so that we could actually get our homework done. Ginny packed and repacked her trunk multiple times. For some reason, she's convinced someone keeps going through her things. But every time she packed, I was unable to fight the urge to check her stuff. As if the diary would magically appear there like the sword of Gryffindor or the door to the room of requirement. Even though I knew that the diary was safely tucked in Fred and George's underwear draw. The one place even Mum wouldn't disturb.

And now it was our last night at the Burrow. Dad had managed to get off work on time and we had a lovely dinner of rosemary chicken before the scramble to find missing bits and bobs began.

My trunk was mostly packed except for my toothbrush, hairbrush, and pajamas since I would still need them tonight and in the morning. I was halfway under my bed trying to dig out some lost hair ties when Ginny entered our room. "Holly", she whispered loud enough for me to hear. Ginny generally tries to garner my attention when we are in the same room. If I'm occupied, I tend to ignore her. But this time her tone of voice is off enough to warrant a response. Crawling out from under my bed, I turn my head until I can look at her. She's standing in the doorway with stiff posture and a color-drained face. "Mum wants to talk to you in the kitchen", she said once we made eye contact.

"Okay", I said slowly as I sat up. This isn't like Ginny. Hardly anything spooks her. Not even when we were younger and I'd wake her up by screaming my bloody head off will I was trapped in a nightmare. "Is everything alright?" I asked. Maybe the excitement had worn off and she was worried about going away to school. This would be her first time being away from Mum and Dad for an extended period.

With an uncharacteristic huff of air, Ginny walks over to her bed and collapses face-first on the mattress. "I don't think I wanted to grow up", she muttered into her pillow. I raised an eyebrow as I started to stand up. That was a complete turnaround from her behavior over the summer when she was trying to seem more mature. I leave the bedroom as Ginny consoles himself with her pillow. Ginny's and my room is on the second floor, so it's easy to get to the kitchen quickly. Mum's sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of tea.

"So, you gave Ginny the talk", I said in place of a greeting. I walked to the chair on Mum's left and leaned over the backrest.

Mum took a sip of her tea before sighing. "Your sister does have a flair for drama", she conceded. "You'll help her? With any feminine issues if she needs it?"

I nodded my head though I was already praying to Merlin that Ginny wouldn't need my help. "Ginny said you wanted to talk to me".

Mum, nodded. "Yes, take a seat, Holly".

I wrinkled my nose. Oh joy, it was going to be one of those conversations. The last time we had an insightful mother-daughter conversation it ended horribly. Mum waited until I was sitting before diving right in. "I promised you that we'd talk about contraceptive".

"It's alright by me if you break that promise", I quickly interjected.

Mum's eyes adopted a stern glean as she continued, "And I wanted to finish this talk before you go back to school".

My shoulders slump; almost wishing that Hogwarts had a mandatory health class. That way parents of magical children wouldn't have to have these conversations at home. "What if I promised just to keep my legs closed?"

"Holly!" Mum reprimanded. "Don't use vulgar expressions!" When I manage to hold my tongue for a solid moment, Mum took a deep breath and continued. "There is a contraceptive potion. With training, you can brew it yourself or purchase it from an apothecary. You only need to drink a spoonful about an hour before you intend to have… intimate interactions".

"Okay", I replied when it became apparent that Mum wasn't going to offer up more. "Is that it?" I was slightly surprised. But not really. It sounded just like muggle birth control pills but with a little more freedom as you don't have to take it every day at the same time.

"Do you have any questions?" Mum asked. She didn't seem too astonished that I wasn't more curious. I suppose our last conversation would have given her an idea about how I would react to this one.

"No", I answered honestly.

Mum nodded as she took another sip of tea like she didn't expect any other response from me. It feels good that Mum knows me so well. "But you will talk to me when you start thinking that you'll need it?"

I took my time as I mulled over her question. It was a reasonable parental request, I suppose. "I probably won't", I admitted. Mostly because I didn't see the need. This wasn't my first time around the block. And while Jessie was prone to get swept away in overwhelming emotion, I was not. You only have to die once before you decide not to go down that road again.

"Holly", Mum said in a concerned-manner. "It's really important that you talk to someone, an adult you trust, before you make a big life decision like that".

Maybe I should just be straight forward for once. It might make things easier moving forward. "Sex didn't work out too well for me in the last life, so I'm not sure if it's something I want to do in this life", I spoke quickly, staring down at the tabletop. All I really remember of the aftermath of Jessie's sexual encountered involved tears, pints of ice cream, aspirin, and a knife with blood dripping off the tip. "Adrian's different from anyone I remember. He has… standards which is something I'm not used to". Admitting that was one of the most vulnerable statements I have ever made. Mum shifted in her chair at that last part. No doubt she was thinking there was another talk we would need to have. "Right now, we are just having fun and figuring out how we work with one another. With him, I feel secure and valued". I could feel my heartbeat speed up. Despite how much confidence I felt in my words, it was still a hard thing to say aloud. "This time around, I want to wait. I don't think Adrian is going to demand anything like that from me. And even if he does, I think I am going to be strong enough to say no". And just because I can't end a conversation on a serious note, I added, "It also helps that I have Fred, George, and three older brothers that hunt and slaughter anyone who hurts me".

Mum huffed a moist sounding laugh. "Oh", she drawled out. "Why are you always my most worrying child?"

"Me?" I asked as I looked up, completely taken back. I was sure that out of the eight of us, the title of the problem-child was a tie between Fred and George. Or maybe Charlie since he had a dangerous interest in large fire-breathing creatures. But me? Until last year, the most trouble I ever got into was due to participating in Fred and George's pranks. "Wait", I said, after I took a minute to really look at Mum. "Are you crying?" Merlin, I think I broke Mum.

Mum sniffed as she composed herself, but the rim of her eyes looked a little red as she started to explain, "You were completely unexpected. When I was pregnant with you, Fred and George-" Mum paused to ask, "Did I ever tell you this story?" At the shake of my head, she continued slowly as she was still collecting herself. "The healer told Dad and me that we were having twins. She never found a third heart-beat in any of her scans. No one did. And then around mid-day on April first you three were born. I had knitted new blankets and booties for Fred and George. But I didn't have anything new for you". Mum let out another half-laugh. "Bill ended up giving you his baby blanket because he didn't want you to feel left out. You three had been smaller than any of my other babies. The healers said that was normal since you were multiples. But you were even smaller than Fred and George. We didn't have a third bassinet, so for the first couple of nights you slept in Dad's emptied out sock drawer since you were the smallest". These were all things that I hadn't heard before or remembered myself. It had me struck speechless. "And you cried all the time. Nothing we did would soothe you. We thought that you were sickly, but the healers could never find anything amiss. Eventually, we figured out that you'd only calm when you were between Fred and George". That part I do remember. Fred and George have always been the main ingredients for my safe space. They were the keys to how I anchored myself in this brave new world. "When you three turned six-months you stopped crying altogether. You went completely quiet. Fred and George would babble up a storm; shrieking with laughter. But you'd just sit there and watch. Your father and I were sure that something was wrong. But every healer we took you to see told us we had nothing to fret about. Around your first birthday, you said your first word, along with Fred and George, so I guess they were right".

"What was my first word", I asked out of curiosity. Mum and Dad always oohed and awed, as parents tend to do, over Fred and George's first words being each other's names. But they never mentioned mine.

Mum took a deep breath as if steeling herself. "Knife", she answered. "You had woken up from one of your night-terrors and you kept on screaming knife over and over again".

"I must have sounded psychotic", I commented.

Mum snorted in grim humor. "We were very concerned. I couldn't even get you to say mummy until you were two". I shifted my eyes in a guilty fashion. Yeah, I had a hard time accepting that I had new parents. "Your nightmares were another thing. You would wake up screaming bloody murder every other night. And you were constantly falling asleep during the day to make up for the hours you were losing at night. At least, now we know what your nightmares were about and why they were so strong".

That brought on another wave of guilt. Of course, I had known that my screaming fits had kept my parents up, but I hadn't quite thought about it in terms of them worrying about their child's well-being. "I'm sorry", I said. "At the time, I wasn't... ready to talk about it". To be completely honest, I'm still not ready to talk about it. I just can't ignore it anymore.

Mum reached over and patted my left hand. "It got better after Ron was born. You'd still wake up screaming, but as far as we could tell you were acting like a healthy and happy child". Mum sighed a big sigh. It was so big that her shoulders rose and fell. "And then there's everything that happened last year. With the seizures and attacks, learning about your past life, Scabbers actually being a wizard, your professor being a criminal lunatic, and finding out that you were interested in a boy that was a death eater in a past life". Mum shook her head to ward off the disbelief of it all. "And you right in the middle of all of it".

"Did you believe Adrian when he said that it was You-Know-Who that attacked us?" I asked. It was something I was curious about. Especially since after Quirrell vanished from Hogwarts, it was not discussed with us again.

It takes Mum a while to respond. She takes another two sips of her tea before answering, "yes", in a grim honesty. "Dumbledore always said that You-Know-Who would come back one day, and I think that Adrian would recognize You-Know-Who better than most people".

We sit in silence for a moment, each distracted with our own thoughts. I don't think either one of us expected a conversation about contraceptive to end up being about You-Know-Who. "So, what should we do?" I asked after a moment.

Mum fixed me with a hard look. It's the type of look where her eyes dig into you and demand obedience. Out of all eight of us Weasley children, it usually only works on Percy and Charlie. "Do?" She repeated back at me. "Holly Weasley, you will not be doing anything. You are fourteen years old. The only thing you must do is school. You have been given a rare opportunity at a second life. Do not throw away your childhood because you're in a hurry to grow up. I think you more than anyone else knows how fleeting childhood is". I nodded but sighed. If only she knew.


	38. Train Extravaganza

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Train Extravaganza

With the diary safely in our possession and no Dobby related incidences when we boarded the train, we were feeling pretty confident. Apparently, so confident that Fred and George couldn't settle for a quiet train ride. "Alright", George announced to our compartment as we pulled away from the train station. We had just finished waving good-bye to Mum and Dad and empowering Ginny to feel brave enough to sit with some of the other first years. "This is the start of a 291 day school year, not excluding weekends and holiday breaks".

Looking away from the window, I glanced over at George. When we had filed into our compartment, we ended up with Lee and I taking the window seats, with Fred sitting next to me and George next to Lee. "When did you calculate that?" I asked. But what I really want to know is why did he calculate that.

My question is ignored. "Which means we have 291 days to decide who gets to date Angelina", Fred continued. His comment had me rolling my eyes.

"Oh, Merlin", I complained. Though Lee had perked up considerably.

"And we'll do that through a series of competitions", George said.

"The one with the most wins at the end of the school year gets to ask Angelina on a date", Fred declared as he locked eyes with George like he was making sure the conditions were agreeable to both of them.

"Or you could both ask her out and see who she says yes to", I gave them an alternative. Though if they did that, Angelina should say yes to Fred since he's the one she's been writing to over the summer.

Fred shoots me a look. "Jolly Holly", he said in dry humor as he bumped shoulders with me. "If you get to send fake letters to your boyfriend, we get to compete for Angelina's attention".

I clicked my teeth as I tried to come up with a retort. But I couldn't. Touché. So, I settled for saying, "We haven't defined anything". And by that I mean, Adrian and I haven't sat down and discussed the terms or titles of our budding relationship.

"So", Lee interjected. He waits until I am looking at him to continue. "Does that mean there's still hope for me?" He asked wiggling his eyebrows. I frown. If Lee ever wants to get a girlfriend, he needs to stop doing that.

George steps in before I can say anything particularly hurtful. It's probably for the best. "Want to judge the whole thing, Lee?" He asked.

"No", Lee answered as he turned his head away from me; voice adopting an air of seriousness. "I want in".

Lee's answer causes Fred and George to grin in a camaraderie that's been absent for the last couple of weeks. It is enough that it almost makes me appreciate Lee. Almost. "You like Angelina too?" I asked, skepticism coating my tone of voice. Though it may be more dread that skepticism on my part. I don't think Hogwarts could survive if George, Fred, and Lee all decided to fight over the same girl.

Lee maintains his serious disposition. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "I like all of the girls, Jolly Holly. But don't worry. You'll always be in my top ten".

I blink once as a little part of me dies for the second time. Then I blinked again before coming to a decision. "Alright, it's official". I said. Hell, I'd say anything if it would get Lee to turn down what he thinks is charisma. "Adrian's my boyfriend and no one should flirt with me ever again", I declared, directing the last bit at Lee.

Fred snorts. "Shouldn't you talk to Pucey about that first?" I flapped a hand at him to wave off his concern. For some reason, I don't think Adrian will mind.

George shakes his head, though there's an amused smile on his face. "Okay, us three will compete for the right to ask Angelina on a date", he amended. "And Holly will judge".

"No, I won't", I immediately said, already imagining the drama this would create in the fourth year girls' dorm.

"Yes, you will", Fred argued.

"Unless you want us to write to Bill and Charlie about your new Slytherin boyfriend". George threatened in support of Fred. I bit my lip. Bollocks. These gits would do it too.

"Fine", I relented, almost growling. Hopefully, Angelina wouldn't be too offended by this when she finds out.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the boys were tightening their shoelaces, stretching in the limited compartment space, and riling each other up by talking smack. We had decided that the first challenge in their year-long competition would be a scavenger hunt on the train. As they prepared themselves for general tomfoolery, I was busy with some spare parchment and a quill; coming up with rules and items for them to find. "You guys ready?" I asked once I was satisfied.

All three boys nodded eagerly. This would probably be the most entertaining train ride we've ever had. "Alright, here's the rules. To win you have to be the first one to find every item on the list and bring it back to me first. You have to bring them one at a time and I'll tell you the next item after you completed the previous one. You can't use magic to conjure or summon any items, and you can't use magic to interfere with each other". That last rule is there mostly because I think the odds of us getting in trouble for this stunt was greater if we accidentally started a duel on the train.

"Sounds fair", Fred and George said at the same time. While Lee nodded his assent; bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Alright, I'll tell you the first item, then on the count of three you can go", I said. I waited for all three of them to nod before continuing. "The first item is an unopened chocolate frog".

Lee guffawed as a confident smirk overtakes his face. "That's easy! Couldn't you have come up with something harder"

"One", I counted.

"But the trolley won't come around until noon", George pointed out, effectively wiping the triumphant look off of Lee's face.

"Two".

"How are we going to get a chocolate frog before the trolley comes around?" Fred asked, looking towards the other two to see if they had any clue.

"Three". Immediately, the boys scrambled for the compartment door, just about climbing over each other. They fumble with the handle before managing to slide the door open with a bang. They spill out into the hallway before they dart off; pushing and shoving each other as they fight to be in front.

Sighing, I stood up with the quill and parchment in hand. Briefly, I weighed the benefits of closing the compartment door and locking it. But I kind of want to see how this plays out. So instead, fighting a smile, I sit in the door jam of the compartment with my back keeping the door open. This way I can watch the boys' comings and goings. I also hoped, vaguely, that they slowed down when they change train cars. It would be hard to explain to Mum how Fred, George, or their best friend got pushed from a moving train. Though this is a magical train filled with children. Maybe someone had the foresight to make that impossible.

I get a few strange looks from passing students for sitting on the floor in front of an empty compartment. Though a little blonde first-year did stop and said, "You're quite right, you know. That compartment is absolutely filled with nargles". I knew who she was the moment after she said that. She was short, as all first-years tend to be, with long curly hair, silvery eyes, and she was wearing mismatched socks. At once, I was very sad that J.K. Rowling didn't include Luna earlier in the series, because as an eleven-year-old she was absolutely adorable. I sent her in the direction of where I knew Ginny was sitting. Hopefully, the two girls would hit it off. I think I need a bit of Luna Lovegood in my life.

The first one back was Lee. He was huffing and puffing as he tossed an unopened chocolate frog into my lap. "Where did you get it?" I asked as I marked down one point for Lee on my piece of parchment.

"There's no time for that, woman!" He said between pants. "Give me the next item!"

Just for that, I spoke painfully slow as I told him, "Find a pink quill".

"Pink quill", Lee muttered to himself as he took off in the opposite direction than he last came from. "Pink quill! I need a pink quill!" He yelled as he ran.

Fred came back next. "Begged it off of a second-year Hufflepuff", Fred explained as I sent him off to find a red quill.

George had taken the longest, but he had taken the most logical path by tracking down the trolley witch at the front of the train. "You need to find a purple quill", I told him. George nodded as he worked to catch his breath. He turned and took one step before turning back around.

"Holly", he said, much calmer than Lee had been. "Don't you have a purple quill?" I smiled at my brother. Out of us triplets, George has always been the most clever.

"I do", I answered.

"Can I borrow it?"

"Sure", I said as I bobbed my head into our compartment. "It's in my trunk. Should be near the top". With a grin, George hopped over my legs and started rummaging through my trunk in the overhead racks. Meanwhile, I unboxed one of the chocolate frogs, Lee's I think, and took a bite. A moment later, I accepted my purple quill, which had been a Christmas present from Bill, from George.

"What's next?" He asked.

"Something quidditch related", I said around a mouthful of chocolate; having fun despite myself. It's hard to not have fun when you're related to Fred and George. George leaves in search of the next item at a slower gait than the others. His strategy is probably smarts over speed.

At this point, we were gaining the attention of our neighbors. Some were peeking their heads out, while others asked what was going on. A brief answer of, "it's Fred and George", was enough to get the veteran students to lose interest. However, one compartment on the other end of the car did not.

"Oh, I should have known you'd be behind all this ruckus", a prissy voice said that made my skin crawl as two pairs of shiny, well-maintained leather shoes entered my field of vision.

I fight the urge to groan as I look up. One of the pairs of shoes belong to someone I absolutely want to see. While the other belongs to a person whose facial composition hasn't approved over the summer holidays. "Holly", Adrian said as he ignored the girl standing next to him. "Why are you sitting on the floor?" He sounds almost concerned. How sweet.

"Oh, I keep telling you, Adrian", Stimpson gushes before I can get a word in. "Weasley's not cut from the same cloth as us. Why else would she willingly sit on the dirty floor?"

Her comment annoyed me, but it annoyed me less than normal because Adrian had maintained eye contact with me throughout it. "I'm currently in the middle of running a scavenger hunt", I said, speaking only to Adrian.

I could see the question forming on Adrian's lips, but Stimpson beats him to it. "How childish!".

I didn't have to respond as Lee, with his impeccable timing, appeared at that moment. He runs down the hall, waving a hot pink quill over his head. "I got it", he yelled. I marked another point for Lee on the parchment as he pushed between Stimpson and Adrian. Stimpson implemented an upfronted expression. While Adrian just looked resigned. "What's next?" Lee asked eagerly, the quill still clenched in his fist.

Before I could tell him, we were interrupted again. "Hey! That's mine!" Cried a high-pitched voice. The four of us looked down the hallway in the direction that Lee had come from. A red-faced, brown-haired girl from one of the younger years stalked towards us. Her hands were balled into fists and her arms swung angrily at her sides. We watched in silence, even Stimpson, as the girl plucked her stolen quill out of Lee's grip before going back to her compartment.

As soon as the girl was out of sight, Lee snapped his head to face me. "That still counts right?" I nod to tell him that it does. It was funny enough that I won't count it against him.

Adrian's voice is low and flat as he asked, "Stealing from second-years are we Jordan?" All of us and anyone else who might be listening could hear the judgment in Adrian's words.

Lee doesn't even need a second before reacting. "All's fair in love and war!" He declared jabbing a singular finger into Adrian's face to make his point. I choked on a laugh. Angelina was going to be absolutely horrified. "Next item?" Lee asked me, as Adrian shoved Lee's finger away from his nose.

"Something quidditch related", I told him. Lee stood still as he thought.

Stimpson huffed. "What an absolute waste of time", she said snottily. "It's no wonder you Gryffindors never amount to anything".

It is unclear if Lee heard her, or if he would have grabbed her by the shoulders even if Stimpson hadn't said anything. He gives her two little shakes, startling her with his abruptness before asking, "do you have anything that has to do with quidditch?"

"O-of course not", Stimpson stammers as she tries to get Lee's hands off her. "Quidditch isn't ladylike".

"Ugh", Lee complains as he spins the two of them around so he could get on the other side of Stimpson. Hurriedly, I slid my legs up, so my knees are bent against my chest to prevent myself from being stepped on. "Bloody useless", Lee said as he took off running again. Just for his last comment, I am almost tempted to give Lee an additional point.

I was working hard to keep a gleeful grin off my face, and Adrian must have noticed because he asked "having fun?" in such a sarcastic way that I know he already knows the answer to that.

"So much fun", I said looking up at him as I unbent my legs again. "This kills time at any rate". I spare a quick glance at Stimpson. Only to see that she's quickly regaining her footing, and looks like she's getting ready to insult me again. But we can't have that, so I said, "There's also something I should tell you, Adrian". I looked back at him and kept my gaze locked onto his steely grey pupils.

He raises an eyebrow and leans forward ever so slightly. "And what would that be?" He sounds almost teasing.

I shrugged nonchalantly as if it wasn't a big deal. "About an hour ago, I decided that you are officially my boyfriend by announcing it to Fred, George, and Lee to get Lee to stop flirting with me. So, we are now in a publicly recognized relationship. Congratulations".

I expected the get an exasperated eye roll, and a lecture about how I've broken some form of pureblood social protocol. But instead, Adrian's smirks down at me with a pleased and entertained glean in his eyes. "You couldn't wait for me to ask you properly?"

Stimpson had taken to opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, and it was making my day. I genuinely smiled up at Adrian as I answered, "I'm going to be the one to call the shots in our relationship".

Adrian snorts as he stands up straight. "Debatable".

Stimpson finally lost it. She stomps her foot once and screeches. "Adrian, you can't date her! She's a blood traitor!" She's so loud that heads have started to peak out of their compartments again.

Adrian, bless him, did not grow tense or irate under the scrutiny of the student body. Instead, he rolled his shoulders, as if working out a kink. "Stimpson", he said calmly over her hysteria. "Please don't refer to my significant other in such a way. After all, now that we are official", he said, throwing my words back at me. "If you insult Holly, you insult me". Damn, did I manage to prevent both Lee and Stimpson from messing with me? If so, I should have named Adrian my boyfriend sooner. Stimpson's bottom lip starts to poke out. She lets out a little whimper before the floodgate opens and the water pours out of her tear ducts. Clinging to probably what she thinks is her last shred of dignity, Stimpson spins on her heels and hurries back to their compartment. No doubt to complain to the other Slytherins in our year about how I've stolen Adrian from her.

"This is a good day", I said in satisfaction after I watched her disappear back into her compartment.

This time, Adrian does roll his eyes, as he offers a hand to help me up. I allow it by putting my parchment and quill to the side and gripping his hand. But only because I want to be on a more even level for this conversation. Once I am on my feet, Adrian uses our joined hands to pull me in closer. "Did you actually decide that we are a couple, or did you say that just because of Stimpson?" Good question.

"No, I actually meant it", I said, boldly leaning in. "Stimpson being there to witness was just a bonus".

"I suppose I can forgive you then", Adrian said in a deep voice. "for making work for me. You know, now I'm going to have to deal with a weepy Stimpson for the rest of the trip".

Well, that does sound awful. "You can stay here", I offered. "We have room in our compartment". We had leaned so close, now that Adrian had to look down, and I had to tilt my head back so our noses could touch.

"No", He answered, and I could feel his breath on my skin. "I should head off the rumor mill before Stimpson takes too many liberties. Or at least the Slytherin side of it". My lips twitched upward. Yes, it wouldn't do to have his good name tarnished. "That word, boyfriend. I know it's used as a more casual version of a suitor. Is it a muggle thing?"

"hmm", I hummed getting dangerously close to brushing my lips against his. "Maybe in origin", I said. In all honesty, it was never something I've ever thought about.

For a moment, I believed that it was actually going to happen. I was actually going to get my first kiss as Holly, after attempting to do so for the majority of the summer. However, I really should know better by now. "One red quill", Fred exclaimed as he appeared out of bloody nowhere and shoved the previously mentioned quill between our faces. Successfully breaking Adrian and me apart. "Please, stop trying to snog my sister, Pucey," Fred said with a bit of an edge in his voice. "As you can tell, we are in the middle of something".

"So were we", Adrian grumbles as I accept the red quill from Fred and return to my seat on the floor to give him his point. I blush a little, and it's kind of surprises me. Evidently, I have no problem kissing a boy in the middle of a train car, but I'm embarrassed to do so in front of my brother.

"Next you need to find something quidditch related", I informed Fred to stop any trouble that could potentially be brewing between him and Adrian.

Fred nods and turns to leave after giving Adrian a hard look, but he turns back and asked me, "Can I trust you to be alone with him?"

I scowled. "An item. Quidditch related. Go", I said each word slowly and pointedly. Fred snorts but leaves this time. As punishment for his question, I call after him "you're falling behind". Causing him to curse and run faster. "See you tomorrow?" I asked Adrian once Fred was gone.

During my conversation with Fred, Adrian had taken to using his thumb and index finger to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Tomorrow", he agreed. And he started to head back to his shared compartment. But he paused to add. "You know, I look forward to the day when I don't have to share you with your brothers".

I smile back at him. "Sorry, you'll always have to share me with Fred and George".

* * *

The next one back is George. He arrives steps ahead of the trolley, where we both have to step back inside our compartment to allow the trolley witch to get through. "I nicked Wood's playbook," He said as he hands me a dog-eared notebook that was labeled on the cover with the words 'top secret'. "He's going to kill me", George admitted with just a little bit of guilt mixed in with his tone.

"I'll keep it safe", I promised with a quirk of my lips. It seemed like neither, Fred, George, or Lee were going half-assed in this competition. "You're in the lead", I informed George at the same moment that Fred came back.

"Not anymore", He taunted; waving a Chudley cannons pin in my direction. "I knew Ron had one on him", he said as he came to stand next to us. "Is that's Wood's playbook?" He sounded like he was both scandalized and proud. "Wood's going to kill us", he repeated George's sentiment from earlier.

"Are you guys ready for the second to last item?" I asked as Diggory passed us in the hallway, slowing down long enough to give us curious looks. He's even taller and even more chiseled looking than he was last year. Alicia is going to be thrilled. At Fred and George's nods, I give them the next item. "A hair from a badger".

"A what?" Fred asked as if he didn't believe he heard me right. "Holly, we're not going to find a badger on the Hogwarts Express". I shrugged at him. This item wasn't as straight forward as the others, and that's why it's fun.

Meanwhile, George had taken to repeating the word badger to himself over and over again. "Maybe in the storage car", he said quietly to himself. "If McGonagall ordered new animals for transfiguration class". It is abundantly clear the moment George figures it out because his whole face lights up. "Oh! Badger! Hufflepuff!" George spins around, and his eyes land on Diggory's back who has already dressed in his school robes. "Diggory", George yelled as he dashed off. "Wait up!".

"Diggory?" Fred repeats in confusion as he turns ever so slightly to watch his identical brother charge at the Hufflepuff seeker. "Oh!" Fred exclaimed when it clicked for him too. And then Diggory had two Weasleys trying to pull at his hair. I wonder if being the game-master behind this whole scavenger hunt makes me a terrible person. Though I suppose that it isn't really important.

Lee comes back seconds later. "Here," he said as he shoved a copy of the daily prophet under my nose. He had it opened to the sports section that was reporting the scores from the last professional quidditch game. "Uh", Lee said as he glanced down the hallway. "Why are Fred and George wrestling with Diggory?"

I answered very nonchalantly. "The next item is a hair from a badger".

Lee didn't need further explanation. With two blinks of the eye, he was also down the hall, trying to get ahold of Diggory's hair. Yeah, I'm a terrible person.

Three plucked hairs and a string of half-hearted apologies later, and Fred, George, and Lee are standing in front of me, waiting to hear the last item. "Okay", I said, setting the mood. "All three of you are tied for first. Whoever gets the item and brings it back here first wins". I pause just to build their anticipation. And to think I originally wanted no part in this. Funny how things turn out. "you need to get a prefect's badge".

"Percy!" Fred squawked, as he immediately knew who he wanted to target. He shot off in the direction of where the prefects' car is with George and Lee right on his heels. I snickered to myself. Poor Percy. Usually, Fred and George avoid him when we are on the train, so he's not going to see this coming.

It takes them a while to make it back. I end up sitting on the floor again just so I didn't have to wait while standing. But it's worth the wait when I start to hear the sounds of stampeding feet. "Jordan! George! Fred! Give me back my badge this instant!" I heard Percy's vexed and enraged voice before I saw them. I stayed where I was as George enters the train car first, holding Percy's badge out in front of him as if the few extra inches made all the difference of keeping it out of Percy's reach. Fred and Lee came next. They were jogging behind George but instead of trying to get the badge from him or holding badges of their own, it looked like they were doing everything they could to keep Percy from getting to George. All three of them had wide grins on their faces. Percy brought up the rear. His face was so red that his freckles and hairline were invisible. I stayed still as I watched their approach, wondering when this stopped being a competition and started being a group effort. Maybe this silly year-long competition will be good for Fred and George.

"I got it! Here!" George said excitedly as he handed my Percy's prized possession.

I take it and barely glance at it as I declared, "George is the winner".

George pumps a fist in the air and Fred and Lee laugh; surprisingly being good sports. But I think that's mostly because of Percy's indignation. Now that Fred and Lee weren't actively trying to prevent him from reaching George, Percy pushed past them. "This was all a game?" He sputtered in outrage after he had heard me declare George the winner. Furiously, he adjusts his glasses.

"What else would it be?" I asked.

"We don't need your prefect badge", Fred added, face still bright from all his activity.

"But thanks for playing, Perce", George concluded.

"Detention!" Percy cried as he pointed an aggressive finger at all of us, including Lee. "Detention, the day after tomorrow". Hmm, detention assigned when we aren't even on school grounds. That must be a new record.


	39. Better Be Slytherin

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Better Be Slytherin

By the time we reached Hogsmeade station, it was raining. And not just a light drizzle. The older students ran for the carriages; holding their robes over their heads as if they were umbrellas. While Hagrid stood in the middle of all the chaos, bellowing for the first-years to come towards him. Unlike with Ron last year, I didn't linger behind to try to spot Ginny and make sure that she ends up where she needs to be. Ginny does have a little more sense than Ron. She should be fine. That's what I tell myself as Fred and George loop their arms through mine, and we run. Not even bothering to cover our heads. It's nothing a hot-air charm can't fix. Lee follows us. He raised the back of his robe completely over his head as we made a break for it. If there is one thing Lee absolutely hates, it's getting his hair wet.

With everyone scrambling to reach the carriages there was more of a delay than usual. But we managed alright. When it was our turn to load into a carriage, I was the first one in. In their haste to get somewhere dry, Fred and George practically picked me up and shoved me inside. Lee clambered in last, snapping the carriage door shut behind him. We sit similarly as we had on the train, except Lee and George were reversed. "Merlin", George laughed; still energized from his win. He shook his head, sending little droplets flying around the carriage. All of us were too wet to mind. "I'd hate to be a first-year right now. Imagine crossing the lake in this", he said; gesturing out the window to the downpour.

I shrugged as I fished out my wand from my robe pocket. "Welcome to Scotland", I said before casting the hot-air charm on myself. Immediately shivering when the blast of hot air came into contact with my skin. Lee, of similar mind, did the same. Rain was common enough in the UK. But, still, to have a big storm on the night of a sorting felt a bit ominous.

Seconds later, Lee and I were dry and we turned our wands on Fred and George. Fred snickered to himself as the water evaporated from his clothes. "Poor Gin. She's going to look like a wet dog by the time they make it to the castle".

My lips quirked upwards as I agreed with him. "This probably isn't how she imagined her first night at Hogwarts", I added.

A roll of thunder erupted, shaking the carriage as Lee and I finished drying Fred and George. "Gin better be careful", said George. "If she isn't, Percy might try to force a pepper-up potion down her throat".

Lee snorted. In a far better mood now that his hair wasn't in danger. "Do you remember when Charlie made Percy take a pepper-up?" He asked. The question had all of us grinning. That had happened during our first year. At the time, Percy was a third-year, and Charlie was a sixth-year. Percy has always been able to zero in on one thing and ignore everything else. Including his own needs. He could zone out over a jigsaw puzzle, a book, or when writing an essay. During midterms in our first-year, Percy had completely engulfed himself in studying. So much that he had a book open at mealtimes and black bags had started to form under his eyes. Charlie, always one for more gentle approaches, had first asked Percy to put the book away when eating. And he started to ask Percy to go to bed when he studied past ten o'clock. When nothing worked, Charlie had poured the pepper-up potion he had brewed for revision into Percy's pumpkin juice at dinner and then marched him to Madam Pomfrey for a lecture on self-care. It had made our day to see the usually so mature Percy being bossed around by our older brother as steam blew out of his ears.

"Maybe we should do the same to Ron", I said.

"If only to keep the tradition alive", Fred agreed.

* * *

By the time we were settling into the great hall, the storm had grown to include lightning as well as thunder. The hall was dimmer than usual with the clouds blocking out the stars and the moon. With the same being reflected on the enchanted ceiling, it was hard to make out details from the other side of the room. Looks like it's going to be dinner by candlelight tonight. The rain was throwing me for a loop. In the book, it hadn't been raining when Ron and Harry had crashed the car into the Whomping Willow. And I couldn't for the life of me think of a reason that would cause the weather to change. Unless, if simply hadn't been stated that it had been raining. Or maybe it did and I'm thinking about the movie.

A low murmur, suited for the ambiance of the hall, spread throughout as staff and students filed in and talked amongst themselves. Talking was the only thing we could do as we waited for the first-years to arrive. Across the way, I could see that Ron had his head bent together with Hermione and Harry. Faintly I could make out the bushy-haired witch gushing about their new celebrity teacher. Wincing, I turned my attention to the staff table on the dais as Oliver Wood engaged my brothers and Lee in a discussion about quidditch. Apparently, when you steal his playbook, you are inviting him to talk your ear off about the sport. Lockhart was sitting amongst the members of staff. He was talking to Snape like they were old chums; seemingly unaware of how pained Snape looked to be in his presence. It made me wonder about when Lockhart had been a student. From Jessie's memories, I knew that he had been in Ravenclaw house. But had he gone to school when Snape would have still been a student? Snape looked a little older than Lockhart but not by too much. Though I doubt either teacher would tell us their age if asked. It was also nice to see that Lockhart wasn't planning on making some sort of grand entrance, considering that he was already seated at the table. Maybe he still had some respect for Hogwarts' tradition of sorting students.

Feeling eyes on me, I glanced over my shoulder. Looking past the Hufflepuff table, I lock eyes with the one Slytherin who doesn't look at Gryffindor table with disgust. Caught in the act, Adrian smirked and nodded his head to his right. I have to look three seats down from Adrian before I see what he was gesturing to. Stimpson was sniffling into her empty dinner plate with her shoulders shaking. Merlin. I snorted and turned back around. I guess that means she remained upset for the entirety of the train ride. I feel annoyed, pain, and irony when I watch Stimpson. Most of the time she is unbearably entitled. But sometimes, like now, she reminds me so much of Jessie; so much of the bad parts of me that I grew out of during a second childhood.

We didn't have to wait too long. The double doors opened with a creak loud enough to draw everyone's attention. With McGonagall leading the short figures wearing black, identical, and drenched robes in the dim light, it looked more like a funeral procession than the welcoming of a new batch of students. Still, Ginny was easy to spot as the only redhead in the bunch. Side conversations puttered out as McGonagall stepped up onto the dais where the sorting hat was waiting on top of a stool. The sorting ceremony was such a ritual at Hogwarts that students never needed to be told to quiet down before it started. We just knew it was important to pay attention as we all remembered what it was like to be a first-year standing in the hall for the first time.

The hat sings its song; very similar to last year's version. We all clap and McGonagall calls the first name. Colin Creevey, who surprisingly did not have a camera in his hands, is the first to be sorted into Gryffindor. Luna Lovegood practically glides to the sorting hat when her name is called. Very quickly, the hat announces that her home away from home is with Ravenclaw house. Besides Ginny, those are the only two names I recognize. The sorting passes the same as always. Children are called one at a time, their house is announced, and the corresponding house table cheers. As the crowd of first-years thin, Ginny was able to spot the other redheads at Gryffindor table. She waves happily as if to say 'save me a seat'. Only Fred and George wave back. But's enough to appease Ginny, who grins and faces forward once more. This year, there's no Zabinis waiting to be sorted. Making Ginny wait to be the very last one to be called. I understood how maddening it was to be last. I had been the last to be sorted in my year. I'm not sure what had been worst. Being the last one standing in the Great Hall for everyone to stare at, or watching Fred and George going ahead of me and worrying that we wouldn't be together. When Ginny's name is called, she rushed forward. Eagerly, sitting on the stool as soon as she reached it.

Poised as always, McGonagall takes her time as she places the hat on top of my sister's head. It slides down, covering her eyes. My stomach grumbles. I can't wait for this to be over so the feast could begin. But just like last year with Ron, the sorting takes longer than I think it should. The sorting hat didn't barely brushed Ginny's head before yelling out Gryffindor. And it didn't sit for a couple of minutes like it had with Ron before announcing the same conclusion. Slowly time ticked by, and only a random singular cough disrupted the silence. I shifted in my seat. What could possibly be taking so long? I asked myself. I had told Ginny the secret to the sorting hat that day in the hospital wing after my second seizure. And I knew that she wanted to be in Gryffindor. She told me herself. But the longer time passed, the surer I was that something had changed. Something right under my nose. It was unclear if the change was in the sorting hat (like it was no longer taking requests) or Ginny herself when the hat loudly proclaimed, "Slytherin!"

It was the quietest response to a sorting. The receiving house barely applauded as the Gryffindor table broke out in quiet murmurs. I think our table might have actually been louder than Slytherin. As far as everyone knew…. Hell, as far as we knew, a Weasley had never been sorted into Slytherin before. I think we might have one great uncle who had been in Hufflepuff, but other than that we were a scarlet and gold family. My eyes flashed to Fred and George. The two of them looked just as shocked as I felt. Ever since seeing Gryffindor tower last year, Ginny had talked about how much she was going to enjoy living there. From the four-poster beds to the warm fireplace in the common room. Everyone, from Mum and Dad to me and Ron, had just assumed that she would continue the Weasley's lion trend so we encouraged it. We hadn't even bothered to get Ginny more than one plain black robe to be magically charmed to match her house. Instead, her trunk was filled with the uniforms I outgrew. There was red trim on her stockings, on her skirts, and on her robes. She even had a collection of different Gryffindor ties that had belonged to many of her different siblings. We hadn't prepared her at all for any possibility other than Gryffindor. How the bloody hell was I going to fix this?

I reached up and tangled a hand into my hair as McGonagall reined in her surprise. This would be the only offspring of Mum and Dad that she didn't have in her house. She had probably been expecting a different outcome as well. She removed the hat from Ginny's head, revealing a tear-streaked face to the Great Hall. Oh, Ginny. She sat frozen on the stool, staring straight ahead without actually seeing anything. It took McGonagall resting a hand on Ginny's shoulder to get her going. And she moved as if the floor was invisible under her feet. A clap of thunder sounded and a flash of lightning dashed across the bewitched ceiling. Still, the hall remained silent as Ginny made a slow trek to the Slytherin table. It was like she was being exiled to the dark corners of the world. Until one person started to clap. I broke my eyes away from the painful sight of Ginny.

From his spot at Slytherin table, Adrian had stood up. With his front turned towards Ginny, he beat his hands together as loud as he possibly could. His face was stone, and his body stiff as he made himself known to the entire school. At that moment, Adrian served two purposes. First, he served as a reminder to his house that they were currently in public, participating in a school event, and rather or not they approved of Ginny as a housemate, certain behaviors were expected of them. At a snail's pace, the clapping grew to hesitant applause as other Slytherins joined. Mostly, it was Adrian's quidditch teammates supporting one of their chaser's decisions. Some of the new first-year Slytherins, the ones who didn't know any better, and the upper years that considered themselves to be above the drama of the younger years followed suit. Adrian's second purpose was that he remained the only one standing. Acting as a beacon to my little sister who had unexpectantly found herself lost. Adrian continued clapping until Ginny reached the table. Before she could sit with the other first-years, leaving herself at their mercy, Adrian beckoned her over to his side with an open hand gesture. Ginny's steps were uncertain at first before she was speeding to his side. I don't blame her for the rush. Adrian's face would be the only familiar one at the table. The only one that Ginny knew for sure wouldn't be unkind to her for coming from a family of blood traitors.

At this point, McGonagall had retreated with the hat and the stool. Dumbledore had stood up to bring the hall to order for his welcome speech. But other than quick glances to the front, I kept looking over my shoulder. I watched as Adrian supported Ginny as she climbed over the bench to sit down. He only resumed sitting once she was. Though he kept an arm over her shoulders, whispering to her until she appeared to respond. As Dumbledore started to list off Filch's friendly reminders concerning contraband, Adrian glances back at me. Solemnly, he gives me one long nod. A silent promise that he was handling whatever this was. And, for now, it would have to do.

* * *

Gryffindor Tower doesn't feel as warm as it normally does. Which I know is ridiculous. The fire is burning bright in the common room as it always is. The couches and armchairs are just a plush as ever, and the students are amicable as they have always been at the start of term. Still, it felt like there was a crucial piece missing. Fred, George, and I head up straight to their dorm without any of us talking about it beforehand. We leave Lee behind, and I forgo the usual gossip catch-up I have with Angelina and Alicia in our dorm. The luggage has already been delivered, as evident by the sight of Fred's and George's trunks sitting next to the foot of their beds. Without prompting, I sit on top of George's trunk and slump my shoulders. This is all my fault. I can't think of a single way that it isn't. Fred digs through his trunk and pulls out a familiar wad of parchment as George sits behind me, on his bed. "I thought you said-" George started.

I cut him off so he doesn't have to be the one to say it aloud. "I did say Ginny would be in Gryffindor. She was in Gryffindor".

Meanwhile, Fred was tapping his wand to the wad of parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good", he said.

I cupped a hand over my nose and mouth and shake my head; lost in my thoughts. "Ginny… She looked devastated". I said to no one in particular as Fred watched the map reveal itself.

George placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. A kind gesture that I didn't deserve. "We should write to Mum and Dad", he said as Fred unfolded the map, looking for something specific. "Tell them what's happened. And some of Mum's baked goods would probably help Ginny feel better". I shake my head again, not really agreeing or disagreeing. If only baked goods could solve all of life's problems.

"She's in Slytherin common room", Fred announced as he came over to show both of us the map. "Pucey's with her", he said; pointing out to the two labeled dots to us. That did make me feel a little bit better. This would have been so much worse if Ginny hadn't known anyone in Slytherin house. "So, what do you think changed?" Fred asked.

George had to squeeze my shoulder to get me talking. "No idea", I admitted. "It could have been something that happened recently, like introducing Ginny to Adrian or intersecting the diary. It could be something that happened long ago, like-" I waved my hands to suggest just how infinite all the possibilities were. "Like we said something to her that made her grow up different. It could be something that happened before she was even born, like me. Either way, you look at it, the only changed variable is me messing with the order of things!" I dropped my head in shame. "I know we're trying to do the right thing. But we destroyed Ginny's life. I destroyed Ginny's life. She won't get to be on the quidditch team, she won't be able to become a professional quidditch player, she won't get close to Harry. She probably won't marry him now that she's a Slytherin". I stopped just long enough for that thought to sink in. "Oh, merlin. Because of me, Ginny's not going to get to live happily ever after with the love of her life. It's all my fault". The comforting hand on my shoulder left and instead decided to harshly pull my hair. "Owe!" I complained as my hands shoot up to defend my scalp.

"Stop regretting your existence", George demanded as he ended his assault on my hair.

"You're here, Holly", Fred continued. "You had no more say about which family you were born to than we did".

"So, stop acting like your life is an accident", George repeated his earlier sentiment.

"It's not going to help us figure out how we can support Ginny", Fred said, driving the point home.

I sighed but nodded. "You're right", I agreed, rubbing my forearm over my eyes in case any teats decided to escape. Besides, now wasn't the time to break down. Not when our little sister was probably feeling worse than we did, and there was a Horcrux hidden in George's trunk. Now was the time to plan.


	40. Ginevra

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Ginevra

"Why weren't you or Ginny at Breakfast?" I asked, out of breath as I leaned over Adrian. He was sitting at our usual lab table in the front of the potion's classroom with the summer homework assignment sitting in front of him.

Adrian adjusted himself in his chair by twisting his torso towards me. "Good morning to you as well", Adrian said with sarcasm seeping from his pores. "And yes, I did have a good night's sleep. Thank you for asking".

I braced myself by placing my hands flat on the tabletop, locking them at the elbows, and leaning my weight into them. Git. "Well, I didn't sleep very well last night".

"That's unfortunate. Care to tell me the reason?" He damn bloody well knows the reason. It had been a sleepless night. Not due to my reoccurring nightmares, but just because I couldn't turn off my thoughts. Even sleeping with Fred in his bed hadn't done anything to help me relax. New thoughts kept popping up one after the other. Would Lucius Malfoy hear about Ginny being sorted into Slytherin and think that it is the diary at work? How soon would I be able to speak to Ginny? How soon would I be able to speak to Adrian about Ginny? What would Mum and Dad think? As George had recommended, we did write to our parents last night. It had been a short letter just detailing the events that had happened at the sorting ceremony, and how scared Ginny had looked. I made sure to include the part when Adrian had stepped up for Ginny. And Fred and George wrote about how the three of us didn't love Ginny any less and that we were writing them because we were worried. We even borrowed Hedwig from Harry to make sure that Mum and Dad would get it as soon as possible. We had asked Percy to use Hermes, but he said that he was already out delivering a letter. It was the same answer with Ron when we asked him if we could borrow Pigwidgeon. Who could they possibly be writing to so late at night? But no reply had come with the morning post. Chances were, it got to the burrow after Mum and Dad had gone to bed. Maybe there would be a response in the evening post.

"Adrian", I spoke his name slowly to make it apparent how serious I was being. "What happened last night? How did Ginny do?"

To his credit, Adrian dropped the sass. "Last night, I couldn't get her to eat a whole lot. But she stopped crying once I told her the importance of keeping up appearances in Slytherin House". Adrian paused as he gestured to me to take a seat. And based on how Snape was glaring at us from his desk, I figured Adrian was right. So, I squeezed past him and slipped into the seat next to him. Adrian waited until I had set my bookbag on the floor before continuing. "I had her skip the tour the first-years take with the prefects. I showed her how to get to the common room, and I made sure she knew the password". The way he talks makes it sound like they had merely gone on a trip to the market.

Before I can question him further, a person exclaims, "There she is!" A little bit startled I looked over my shoulder. Adrian does the same, but with an air of annoyance. Entering the potions classroom are the rest of the fourth-year Gryffindors with Lee in the lead. "I told you she'd be fine going ahead. She just wanted to talk to her boyfriend". Lee said loudly to Fred and George; almost gushing out the last word in a mocking fashion.

I rolled my eyes before turning back around. Fred and George had been worried because of my tossing and turning last night, and how I had picked at my breakfast this morning. They were not concerned about me heading to class ahead of them. That was just Lee's imagination at work. "Five points from Gryffindor", Snape's dark voice echoed throughout the classroom. "For Jordan's obnoxious arrival. Now, sit down". Well, Snape sure is starting the year on a good note. Looking in the direction of his desk, I made the mistake of locking eyes with the potion's master. He was… frowning at me. Whatever for? I mean, I know that I am not a favorite of his. No Gryffindor has ever been a favorite of his. But I am confident that I am also not the worst. I, for one, have never purposely blown up a cauldron.

I listened to my fellow Gryffindors grumble as they start to fill up the Gryffindor side of the room; holding my tongue only long enough for Snape to lose interest in us and look away. As soon as I am no longer being pinned by Snape's coal-black gaze, I turn back to Adrian. "And?"

"And?" He repeated my word back to me. "And what?"

I had always thought that if I became prematurely gray it would be Fred and George's fault. Now, I'm starting to rethink that. "Ginny! Was she able to sleep? Was anyone mean to her? Is she going to be safe?"

Adrian had the gall to roll his eyes. Hadn't he gone through this with Sirius in his first life? Sure, it was reserved. Sirius was the oldest instead of the youngest. He had come from a Slytherin family, rather than a Gryffindor one. And we weren't going to exile Ginny as Sirius had been. But surely, Adrian remembered the stress it put on his family. "I don't know how she slept, or if she slept at all seeing as boys aren't allowed in the girls' dorms. And it would make me a creep if I watched an eleven-year-old girl sleep". I huffed at his answer but saw his point. "Though she did stay up late. We both did. That's why we weren't at breakfast. I had her wait with me in the common room until people started to settle down for the night. That way there were fewer listening ears when I talked to her about the dos and don'ts of Slytherin house. No one was mean, as you put it. At least not while I was sitting with her. She was more ignored than anything else". That was both good and sad at the same time. "Since we slept in a bit, I asked a mate to collect my schedule as well as your sisters. She's in Charms right now".

I exhaled through my mouth. That's good. Charms is good. Flitwick keeps his students too busy for anything to end up being too terrible. Then I played back Adrian's answers in my head. "What did you mean about the dos and don'ts of Slytherin?"

Adrian sighed. Again, he turned in my direction. Except for this time, he reaches out and grabs my hands in his. "Holly, just like Gryffindor, Slytherin has its only culture". He stared me down; his eyes searching for something deep within my own. "Do you trust me to take care of her?"

I know only a couple of seconds pass, but with Adrian's intensity, it feels much longer. "Yes," I answered calmly. I've trusted him since that night in the forbidden forest when he tried to get Harry and me to run.

Adrian's eye muscles soften, and his stern façade slipped into a gentle smile. "Although we are all dreading it, the class has now begun", Snape drawled as he stood up from behind his desk; instantly drawing everyone's attention to him. Knowing that if we lingered, we'd be inviting Snape to comment on our closeness, Adrian removed his hands from mine and we both angled our bodies to face the potions master. "This term we will be studying transfiguring potions and their potentially dastardly side effects". Oh, joy.

* * *

Under Adrian's advice, none of us got to talk to Ginny. Apparently, her older siblings hovering over her would be taken as a sign of weakness. We caught glimpses of her at mealtimes. She was always sitting with Adrian, and sometimes the other first-years would join them. Based on what I could get out of Adrian during our shared classes, having an older student take Ginny under his wing had made her more appealing to her peers. Things weren't great. But they weren't awful either. Mum and Dad had written us back. And by us, I mean all of the Weasleys in Gryffindor. Evidently, that first night back at Hogwarts, we all had the same idea and had written Mum and Dad. Which was why both Percy's and Ron's owls were gone when we had asked to borrow them. Mum and Dad hadn't said much. Only that it didn't matter and to thank us for keeping them informed. But there had to be more to it than that. Our family wasn't liked by many of the families who have children in Slytherin. And now Ginny was eating and sleeping amongst them.

On Saturday, we finally were going to see Ginny. Adrian had worked it out. And while I knew it wasn't going to occur under the best circumstances, I was looking forward to it. Funny, really. All summer I wanted Ginny to give me space. But now that she was mostly unobtainable, I wanted her close. I've never attended one of my brother's quidditch practices before. In the past, their quidditch practice has always been a time for me to relax and be alone like the introvert I am. However, at about mid-morning, I found myself sitting next to Hermione and Ron on a bench on the pitch as Wood informed the Gryffindor team about this year's training regimen. "Are you sure Ginny is coming?" Ron asked as Hermione was reading her copy of Travels with Trolls.

"Yes", I assured him, watching as Wood started to animatedly gesture with his broom free hand. "Adrian said that she would be at the pitch at around 10:30".

My answer didn't appease Ron. He scrunched up his nose. It's the same expression he used to wear when Mum was teaching us math when we were still learning at home. "But why would she come to Gryffindor's quidditch practice? How did Pucey even know Gryffindor would be practicing today? Wood only told harry he had to be here last night".

"I don't know', I answered, shrugging. Though I had an idea. "Adrian just… knows stuff".

Ron fixed me with a look. One that contained certain air of Percy to it. "Don't you think that it's weird that he just knows stuff?" Ron asked. "Or that Ginny got sorted into Slytherin after you decided to get all cozy with him over the summer? It's suspicious if you ask me".

I threw an arm over Ron's shoulders and pull him into my side. Ron had shot up over the summer and we were pretty much the same height now. It was getting harder and harder to manhandle my little brother. "It's coincidental", I said as I used my free hand to mess with his hair. Ron let out an indignant squawk at the treatment, half-heartedly flailing his limbs as he tried to get away from me but not hit Hermione in the process. "I don't think there's anything anyone can do to interfere with a sorting", I said, releasing the boy. Who huffed as he tried to straighten his mused hair.

"I think it's nice". Hermione said as she turned a page before looking up at us. "That you're all trying to support Ginny and don't care about her being in different houses. Maybe Ginny can show Slytherin that they're not so different from everyone else". Hermione had chosen her words carefully, like a diplomat. I, for one, wouldn't have used the word different. I would have used the word superior.

"It's a nice thought", I complimented the second-year girl, who beamed at me for the compliment. She was better than she was last year with needing approval and appreciation, but she still liked to be right. "But I think that goal is a little too ambitious to place on an eleven-year-old". I didn't want to see the challenges Ginny would face if we made her the poster child for ending inter-house rivalries and stereotypes.

"I don't believe it!", I heard Wood complain. The three of us sitting on the bench glanced up and followed Wood's line of sight. Entering the pitch from the opposite end was the Slytherin team carrying broomsticks either in their hands or over their shoulders.

"This can't be good", Ron said as Hermione snapped her book shut as the Slytherin team drew closer. Walking in the back of the team was Adrian when a little redhead trailing behind him. This was the closest I've been to Ginny since arriving at Hogwarts. It felt weird seeing her in a green trimmed school robe and a green and silver tie.

"Clear out, Flint," Wood said, once the Slytherin team was close enough to be heard. "I booked the field today".

"Easy, Wood", the Slytherin quidditch captain, Marcus Flint said with a smirk. As the two quidditch captains talked, Adrian motioned for Ginny to join us on the bench. Which she did with even measured steps, despite looking like she wanted to run. "I've got a note". Flint continued as he handed Wood a piece of parchment.

"Hey Gin", I whispered; moving to hug her now that she was finally standing in front of me. But Ginny held out a hand before I can do so.

"No public displays of affection" She whispered back. She sounded the same as she always did, but her tone lacked the excitable energy it usually contained. "Adrian said that if the others think that I'm uncouth I'll be outcasted from Slytherin".

My heart ached. No hugs? "Like that would be a bad thing", Ron snorted. As we all scrunched together so Ginny could sit too.

"Adrian says that it's not just the Slytherins I need to worry about but the other houses too. They might leave me alone because I'm a Weasley. But if they do target me and no one in Slytherin accepts me, then I won't have anyone to watch my back". Ginny said without looking at any of us.

I was biting my lip as Wood read the note Flint had given him aloud. "I, Professor Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to use the pitch in order to train their new seeker". I hadn't even considered the other houses. As a Gryffindor, I was on friendly speaking terms with the students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw even though I didn't have any friends in those houses. "You have a new seeker. Who?"

I didn't know how to respond to Ginny. The implications hidden in what she shared was greater than anything I had considered. Was it like that for all Slytherins? Were they the hostile ones? Or did they act hostile because that's all they felt when interacting with the other houses? Ron, however, in his normal tactless manner, knew just what to say. "If anyone tries, we'll kill them", he said sullenly. He spoke in exaggeration, of course. But he managed to put what I was feeling into words.

The Slytherins standing in front parted ways to reveal the slicked back blonde hair of Draco Malfoy as he clutched a brand-new broomstick, looking proud.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked more out of disbelief than having an actual question. Having been paying more attention to the quidditch teams' interactions than the conversation Ron, Ginny, and I were having, Hermione stood up and placed her book down where she had been sitting seconds ago. Her action catches Ron's attention. When he sees Malfoy and Harry locked in a stare-off, he rises to his feet too.

"Bloody hell", he grumbles as he and Hermione walk over to Harry's side. Ginny and I stay seated. Me, because I have a clue about what is about to happen. And I imagine Ginny didn't move because she now had ties to both sides.

"Ginny, I want you to know", I started to say as The Slytherin team started to show off their new broomsticks. "That none of us think of you any different for being in Slytherin. We still love you".

"I know" Ginny replied; blushing. It was a relief to see her making a facial expression, but what I wanted to see was a smile. But it might be too soon for that. "Mum and Dad wrote to me the day after the sorting ceremony. They said that everything would be fine and that you guys would help me if I need it. And it isn't too bad. The other girls in my dorm think that it's cool that an older boy on the quidditch team is mentoring me".

"Are those Nimbus 2001s?" Ron asked loudly.

"They aren't mean", Ginny continued as we kept our eyes on the pitch. "We aren't friends either. But I think we can respect each other if I follow the rules". She says all of this calmly, but it had me thinking. If she follows the rules? That's not… That's not how respect works.

"They're a gift from Draco's father", Flint said, confirming that the brooms were indeed Nimbus 2001s.

"Holly", Ginny started. She keeps her eyes on where all the action was. "What does uncouth mean?"

I blinked. She had repeated Adrian's advice and was trying to act on it without even comprehending it. "It means-" I started to explain, but then we both got distracted as things heated up on the pitch.

"You see Weasley", Malfoy sneered at Ron. "Unlike you, my father can afford the best". I was kind of curious how this was going to play out. After all, Ron's wand wasn't broken. Would I get to see Malfoy vomit slugs? It was a thrilling thought. But a part of me didn't want that to happen. Not if it complicated things for Ginny. "Don't think we're on the same level now that your sisters might be redeemable. You're going to end up a poor blood traitor just like your father". Ginny and I both flinched, as I reached up to place a hand on Ginny's shoulder. Though I suspect that we flinched for different reasons. That was off-script.

As Ron adopts a furious expression, and Fred and George cast glances in mine and Ginny's direction, Hermione steps forward; lifting some of the pressure of confrontation off of Ron. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to get their parents to buy their spot. They got in on pure talent", Hermione said, calling to light what was not being said.

Malfoy had no problem turning his ire to the bushy-haired Gryffindor. "No one was talking to you, filthy little mudblood."

Everyone on the Gryffindor side jolted as if they had been physically struck. Except for Harry, who probably doesn't know what mudblood means. While all the Slytherins, except for Adrian and Ginny, smirked and sniggered as Hermione bristled at the derogatory term. Adrian was looking steadfast at the tree stationed behind the Gryffindor team. I knew why. Adrian may no longer saw the need to discriminate against different blood types, but he still remembered all the feelings he had about muggleborns when he was living as Regulus. Some of those feelings probably still existed. Ginny had balled her hands into fists and was staring down at her shoes. She, like the rest of us Weasleys, had been taught that to call someone mudblood was vile and unacceptable. But now she was living in a culture where it was normal and just about expected. If she spoke out against the verbal abuse, she'd face backlash.

Not to worry though. There are many other hot-heads in our family willing to leap into action. "You'll pay, Malfoy!" Ron declared as he freed his wand from his robe pocket. No one had time to react as Ron raised his wand, pointing it at Malfoy. "Eat slugs", he said as greenish-yellow color shoots out of the wand's tip and pummels into Malfoy's gut.

Malfoy gets knocked off his feet as he flies backward a couple of inches. He would have gone much further if it wasn't for the members of the Slytherin team standing behind him. He landed right into them, and only their stubbornness kept him upright. He groaned at the impact before quickly shutting his mouth as his cheeks puffed out. A second later, his stomach heaved as if needing to barf. Another second later, a slimy yellow slug slips out of his mouth. It slides down the front of his robes for a few centimeters before landing on the freshly cut grass of the quidditch pitch.

"Ugh" The Gryffindors all chimed in together in cheerful disgusted. Some were even giving Ron a pat on the back. It wasn't long before Malfoy puked up another slug. This one was grey. Somewhere in the background, a camera flash went off. That was the only thing that told me Collin was here.

"I guess you won't be training your seeker today", Wood said smugly to Flint.

The Slytherin quidditch captain snarled; his whole upper lip curling back to reveal his crooked teeth. "Take him to the hospital wing", Flint snapped at his two beaters before turning back to Wood. "They'll be consequences for this, Wood". With the beaters already hauling Malfoy away, Flint turned with the rest of the Slytherin team following him after him. Despite being on the losing side for this encounter, they held their heads up high. Adrian brought up the rear as he looked in Ginny's and my direction. He made me his best apologetic face but called out in a stern voice that didn't match his expression. "Ginevra, we're leaving".

Ginevra? Ginny slumped her shoulders as she stood up, making my hand fall off her shoulder. "See you later", she said before hurriedly walking after Adrian. But… Why is she going by Ginevra? Ginny hates her full name.


	41. Bingo

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Bingo

"I can't believe it", Percy said as he sat on top of the teacher's desk in front of the transfiguration classroom. Despite him promising that we would have detention two days after the start of term for the stunt we pulled on the train, it didn't get scheduled until Sunday evening. Apparently, it's not actually against the rules to have a scavenger hunt on the Hogwarts Express, and Percy had to convince McGonagall that we deserved to be in detention. Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long to get it organized. McGonagall usually doesn't need much convincing when it comes to us. Percy crossed his arms and fixed us with a disappointment laced frown. "I can't believe that four out of my five younger siblings earned detention before the start of the second week of school". The fourth sibling being Ron. When Malfoy had arrived at the hospital wing throwing up slugs, Madam Pomfrey, of course, got the full story. Which lead to Ron receiving detention with the rest of us.

"Why can't you believe it?" Lee asked from the desk he was sitting in next to George. "You're the one who gave me and the triplets detention".

Fred nodded from the desk he was sitting in which was next to mine. "Seems to me that you put a lot of effort into this".

"What's the matter, Percy?" George asked. "Did you miss us that badly? It's only been a week since school started".

"It's too bad you didn't find a reason to give Ginny a detention" Fred continued. "Then we could have had a family get together. With Lee, included of course".

Percy clenched the sleeves of his robes with both hands as his eyes tracked whoever was speaking. He looked like he wanted to interrupt but was unsure when he should. "So, what are we going to do?" I asked. Mostly, because I didn't want to spend this whole hour watching Fred and George bait Percy. It's fun for the first five minutes. But any longer is like listening to _It's A Small World_ on repeat. "Homework? Dust the classroom? Scrub the floors? Organize McGonagall's transfiguration animals in alphabetical order?"

Percy stares at me for a good solid minute. I end up propping my chin on my hand with my elbow rested on the desktop as I waited for him to formulate an answer. It was like he couldn't decide if I was being serious or mocking the sanctity that is detention. Sarcasm has a tendency to go over his head. "You'll be writing lines", he said after a moment.

Lee, Fred, and George groaned in sync as Ron exclaimed, "That's boring!"

Percy uncrossed his arms just so he could push his glasses further up his nose. "Don't complain", he snapped. "The only reason you're in detention with me is because I was already supervising one for these four. Otherwise, you'd be polishing trophies in the trophy room or helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail. Now, take out some parchment and quills", Percy said, directing the last part at all of us. I rolled my eyes but complied. I, for one, would rather write lines that be stuck with Lockhart for an hour. With much moaning and grumbling, the boys did the same. Though, only so they could play with Percy's nerves. "Ron", Percy started once we all had writing materials in front of us. "You'll write, 'I will not use magic against other students". George raised a hand before Percy could continue. Percy looked at him for half a second before turning to the next person, but George started waving it aggressively in the air so it was impossible to ignore. "What?" Percy asked, bitingly.

"I think Ron should write something else", George said as he lowered his hand, imitating a model student. Percy was probably regretting making a big fuss out of the train scavenger hunt by now if his twitching eyebrow was anything to go off. "Something like, 'I will not use slugs to teach prats to not be elitist scum'".

"Or how about, 'I will not torture pure innocent slugs by conjuring them into a Slytherin's mouth'?" Lee offered up his own suggestion.

"I think I prefer the sentence, 'Malfoy eats slugs', myself" Fred added his two cents. I glanced over at Ron, who had taken to staring down at his parchment to try and hide his smile. Despite what Ron felt or thought, Fred and George always had Ron's back when it comes to forces outside of our family. He was just so fun to mess with and provoke that it wasn't always obvious.

Percy cleared his throat, looking down at the floor. He was in charge of this detention. He was tasked with the challenge of helping us see the error of our ways. Even if he was of a similar mind as the rest of them. "If Ron wants to", Percy said slowly, refusing to look at anyone. "He may write 'In the future, I will not waste slugs'". We all beamed at Percy, as Ron dipped his quill into his inkwell before writing the second option Percy had given him. Sometimes it is easy to forget that under Percy's rule-following demeanor and his compulsive need for control and order is a Gryffindor. "Fred, George, and Jordan will write, 'There is no acceptable reason to steal someone's hair or prefect badge". This time there was no complaint, as the three best friends started writing once Percy had finished talking. It was a win to get him to relent with Ron. No need to push it. "And Holly will write, 'I must not instigate misbehavior from others".

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't instigate things", I insisted, mustering up my best offended voice.

Percy glances at me with his chin tilted downward and his glasses rested at the very tip of his nose. He had never looked more like a librarian. "Weren't you the one keeping score?"

"Yes, but-"

"She also came up with the list of items for us to find", George piped up.

"So, technically it was her idea to get your prefect's badge", Fred pointed out.

I turned my head so that my fellow triplets could see my narrowed eyes. They just smiled. Traitors. "I never specified that it had to be your prefect's badge", I defended myself as I looked back at Percy. The unmoved look on his face told me that that little detail didn't make a difference in the slightest. "I was blackmailed into participating", I blurted out as a last-ditch effort. Of course, I know that nothing I said would get me out of writing lines. I just didn't want to be known as the instigator.

But then Fred, George, and Lee started to laugh through their noses with their mouths closed, and I knew that I had taken a misstep. Percy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, canceling out his librarian look. "How were you blackmailed?" Oh, bother, Percy didn't know that Adrian and I were considering our relationship to be official.

I cleared my throat. "So, how many times do you want to write, 'I will not instigate others?"

"Holly, how were you blackmailed?" Percy repeated his question, having picked up the snickering of the other fourth-years in the room. Even Ron was looking up in curiosity.

"Oh, I wouldn't call it blackmail", Fred said, jumping in. He waited until Percy was looking at him before continuing. "It was more like buying Holly's help by agreeing to keep a secret".

"That is literally the definition of blackmail", I said with a slightly raised voice as I gestured with my hands.

"But we really only agreed to not tell Bill or Charlie", George pointed out.

"What secret?" Percy asked. His eyes flashed in my direction, but seeing as Fred and George were being more forthcoming, he turned his attention back to them.

"It's not a secret", I tried to interject. "Just something personal".

But no one was listening to me anymore. "Holly got herself a boyfriend", Lee piped up, stealing Fred and George's thunder. Not that they minded. Since it was technically Lee who spilled the beans, I wouldn't be completely justified at being peeved at them.

Ron snorted. The brat. "That's old news", he said having already turned back to his lines. And by the unmoved look on Percy's face, I'd say Percy agreed with him.

"Oh ho", George disagreed with humor. "But Holly only declared her and Pucey as official on the train". George said, putting air quotes around the word official. And they say girls are terrible gossips.

"And our dear older brothers don't know about how close Holly and Pucey had gotten over the summer", Fred continued, grinning in my direction. He was just asking me to slip toad guts into his socks. "Imagine what Bill and Charlie would do if they learned that their little sister was getting cozy with a Slytherin".

I gestured with my hands again to express how ridiculous this was. But really, I blame myself. I should have just written the lines without making any sort of comment. "How is that any different from their youngest sister being in Slytherin?" I asked.

"So", Percy stepped in before anyone could answer me. In a way, I was grateful. Ginny being a Slytherin was still fresh, and we didn't need to say anything and risk it coming out wrong. "You only ran the scavenger hunt to keep them from telling our older brothers that you were dating Pucey?"

"Yes", I answered. Maybe, Percy would see it from my point of view. Even though I did have fun running the scavenger hunt once it was underway.

Percy cleared his throat. "Right", he said. "Holly will write, 'I am too young to date". I slapped a hand on my face as my fellow triplets, Lee, and Ron immediately started laughing. Merlin, spare me from overprotective brothers.

* * *

With the first week done and over, it was time to turn our attention to destroying the diary. It didn't make sense to wait, not when we were sitting on something so dangerous. But we always found a reason to put it off for another day; Lee telling George about a brilliant new way to jinx Filch's cat, Fred feeling too tired after quidditch practice, or Adrian wanting to spend time with me. It was easier to find an excuse than it was to find the motivation to get started. I think or hesitation is partly due to how big and unknown our problem was. From one side, figuring out how to destroy the diary without basilisk venom or fiendfyre seemed like a daunting amount of research that I didn't know how to go about doing. On the other side, was the risk of waiting too long and someone else getting possession of the diary. And what if we failed? What if we couldn't find a way to destroy it that we were capable of implementing? Would we be stuck with the diary for the rest of our lives?

No, for the moment it was better to focus on other things. Like Ginny being a Slytherin. Like sitting next to Adrian in defense against the dark arts now that we were a couple. Like the second challenge in the Angelina competition. "What are you doing?" Adrian asked as he peered over my shoulder while holding his arithmancy book open with his left hand.

I glanced at him from the parchment that I had made into a grid containing twenty-five squares. Each square, except for a blank one in the middle, had a word or phrase on the inside. Fred, George, and Lee each had one as well. Except their boxes had different phrases or words. I had made them the previous night in detention when I was supposed to be writing lines. So far, I was glad that I did. "We're playing word bingo", I whispered as Lockhart struts around the front of the classroom in violet robes. He looked like a peacock. I had decided that this would be the second challenge in the yearlong competition. Mostly because I was bored, I wanted a distraction, and Lockhart was the perfect teacher to do this too.

Adrian squinted his eyes, making his eyebrows slant inward. "What in Merlin's name is bingo?" I had to stop myself from giggling. Hearing the word bingo come out of his posh mouth made me aware of what a silly-sounding word it was. Bingo. At least he didn't have to ask who I was referring to when I said we.

Sliding my parchment closer to him on our shared desk, I explained, "It's a game. Each box has something inside of it, and when it's said aloud you get to mark it off. You win when you have a full row marked off, and then you have to call out bingo so the other players know that you've won. The version we're playing uses words or phrases, but the traditional version uses letters and numbers".

"Why?" Adrian asked slowly. That was often his response to what my brothers and I do for entertainment. It makes me wonder what he does to amuse himself. Huh. Now that I think about it, as his girlfriend, that is something I should probably figure out.

I shrugged as Lockhart started talking about his personal robe designer. "We're bored and stressed and this is both fun and a distraction". I answered as honestly as I could without mentioning the Angelina contest. Adrian can keep a secret; I have no doubt. But I didn't need someone listening in and spreading that around. I was trying to avoid Angelina finding out about what Lee and my fellow triplets were doing for as long as possible.

Lockhart mentioned his award-winning smile for the first time in this class and I hurriedly glanced down at my paper to mark off a box. Two more and I'd have the left diagonal. Adrian understood the boring part. Everyone in this room, except Lockhart, was bored. Adrian wouldn't be working on Arithmancy if he wasn't. So, when he asked, "why" a second time, I knew what he was asking about.

In response, I gave him a hard look until he caught on. Adrian directed his eyes back to his book before rolling them. Of course, I couldn't tell him about the diary without explaining how I knew what it was, so I had to let him fill in the blank. "Your sister is fine", he assured me in a voice that sounded more annoyed than comforting.

"I know", I muttered, although I really didn't know if Ginny was alright. Though none of us Gryffindor Weasleys had seen any mistreatment when we passed Ginny in the halls, it still felt concerning that we don't get the chance to verbally check-in with her every day. "It's just", I said pausing as I planned my words out. From the desk in front of Adrian and I, I watched as George hurriedly marked off one of his boxes. Lockhart must have said one of George's buzz words. "Ginny said some things on Saturday that I have questions about".

Adrian sighed as loud as he could in class without being called out. "Of course, you do".

I nudged his foot with mine under the desk to tell him that I didn't appreciate the attitude, but otherwise ignored him. "Why can't I give her hugs in public?"

"Do you want her to look week?" Adrian retorted. "If she looks like a little girl needing comfort from her elder siblings, she'll get exploited". I wanted to point out that that wasn't true. But as I thought about it, I wasn't so sure it wasn't. I tried to think of a time that I had hugged Adrian in public. But I couldn't come up with one memory. I had hugged him. Just not in front of people that weren't family. I guess we weren't a really affectionate pair. Though we have come dangerously close to snogging in front of others.

"She said there were rules she'd have to follow to get respect. What rules?" I asked, moving on.

"The same variation of rules all houses have", Adrian answered. But at my inquiring looked he went into further detail. "In your common room, where do the first-years sit?"

Weird question. "Anywhere they like", I said, giving my knee-jerk response. But then I thought about it a bit more. Oh. "But they are expected to give up their seats if an older student wants it".

Adrian nodded to signal that I was thinking in the right direction. "In Slytherin, we have an unspoken rule that cushioned furniture is reserved for the upper years. The younger years may use the wooden furniture unless otherwise invited". Well, that didn't sound too bad. "And I've heard that Hufflepuff has their first-years sit on the floor during house meetings", Adrian added. Yeah, I guess we did all have our own rules. "She'll also run into trouble if she lets any non-Slytherins into our common room, if she doesn't support the Slytherin quidditch team, and if she doesn't respect her mentor, which is me".

Mentor? "Ginny said something about you being her mentor. And you're making it sound like an actual thing". My comment caused Adrian to shoot me a surprised look as Lockhart started explaining all the loops and curls in his signature by writing it very slowly on the blackboard.

"You don't have a mentoring program in Gryffindor?" He asked.

"A what?" I questioned further, wrinkling my forehead in confusion.

"Gryffindor's new students. You don't pair them with an older student to help them survive the first semester? To orient them to Hogwarts?" Adrian asked, describing what he meant as a mentor in the process.

"No", I answered drawing out the word. He makes it sound like we're leaving the first-years to be devoured by lions. I mean, it's not like Gryffindor house has lost any of its first-years. "They can ask for help if they need it, I guess. But if they do something stupid it's their own fault and they need to fix it".

"Unbelievable", Adrian said to himself as he shook his head. "No wonder Gryffindors are so brash; having to figure out things for themselves".

"We like independent thinkers", I said, getting a bit offended on my house's behalf.

"No", Adrian disagreed with a quiet snort. "Your house likes rash actions. Thinking has never been Gryffindor's forte". I squinted my eyes at him. Well, gee Adrian. Tell me how you really feel. "The older Slytherins are responsible for the younger students until they find their footing. Mentorships are usually set up between families in advance. It is seen as a way to encourage business relations between different bloodlines. Those that aren't organized ahead of time get matched up by the prefects after the sorting. Usually, girls are placed with girls and boys with boys. But due to my connection to you, I was able to petition to be Ginevra's mentor based on a familiar obligation". Well, that sounded both protective and awkward at the same time. Though, I suppose, I should just be happy that Ginny didn't end up with Stimpson as a mentor. Now, that would have been a nightmare.

All of Adrian's answers were calming me down, as evident by my loosening back muscles. But I still had one more question. "Why are you calling her Ginevra?"

Adrian had turned back to his book, and this time he didn't bother to look at me as he answered, "Ginevra is a respectable and dignified name for a witch. Ginny is a sentimental, childish nickname. No one, other than your family, is close enough to your sister to use it". So, it's a manners thing? That's why Ginny's going by her full name? I thought as I looked back at my bingo boxes. "Holly", Adrian said after a brief moment of silence. Well, silence for us. Lockhart was still going on about how great he was. I hummed at Adrian, to let him know I was listening. "I don't mind assisting your sister, but the next time we meet can we just focus on us?" That had me snapping my head back up to look at the boy sitting next to me. He kept his gaze focused on his book. Though I doubt he was actually reading at this point. Right, we've accepted that we're in a relationship and should, therefore, do relationship things.

I could feel my face get a little warm as I smile at Adrian, although he didn't see it. "Want to meet up in the library sometime this week?" I suppose the destruction of the diary can be put off a little while longer.

"I was thinking we'd take a walk around the grounds. Perhaps during our lunch break".

"That sounds nice", I agreed.

In front of us and slightly to the left, Lee suddenly sat up straight causing his chair to make creaking sounded. "Bingo!" He declared right in the middle of class. Lockhart paused in his assessment of himself as he stared at Lee in shock. Out of all the things he imagined people would say when he presented them with his skill set, bingo probably wasn't one of them.

"Mr. Jordan-", Lockhart started to say, but Fred spoke over him.

"Ah", He complained. "I was only one away".

I looked back at my bingo sheet. Seems that I had completely forgotten that I was playing.


	42. A Night Time Visitor

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A Night Time Visitor

Someone was sitting on top of me. Their knees dug into the ground on either side of my waist. "No", I whimpered. "No, no, no". They had one of their hands pinning my wrists together above my head; increasing pressure whenever I wiggled too much or became too loud. I tried pleading with the person on top of me. I knew that I was staring directly in their eyes, but still, their face was shrouded in shadow. The only thing I could make out was the cracked skin of their lips as the person slowly licked them in agitation.

"All you had to do was keep your fat mouth shut", The person said, digging their fingernails into my skin.

"I'm sorry", I blubbered, trying to thrash out from under this person's hold. But I couldn't even get an inch.

"But you couldn't even manage that, could you Jess", The person continued to talk as if I hadn't said anything. "If you had just listened, we could have kept going. Nothing would have to change. But now", The person paused, snarling in disgust. "Now, I have to clean up your mess". With their free hand, the person raised a stainless-steel knife into the air with the blade pointed downward.

"No, please stop", I sobbed as I furiously shook my head side to side. Nothing worked. The knife plunged down to a point where I couldn't see it. But I could feel it. Burning hot pain paired with an intense pressure grabbed my full intention as I cried out. The person on top of me withdrew the knife, pulling it back into my line of vision. It was hard to focus my eyes, but I zeroed in on the now crimson-stained blade with little beads dripping off the tip. "Please", I tried again as coldness seeped in and I started to shiver. The person plunges the knife a second time, then a third, and a fourth. Each time it was in a different place. At some point, it became difficult to breathe and the only sounds I was able to make were gurgling ones.

"Jessie, Jessie, Jessie", the person tsked as my vision started to fade. I heard them toss the knife aside and it softly clattered against the dirt floor. "If only you could see yourself right now". The person said as they placed a blood coated hand on my cheek, turning my head to look at them. It felt warm to my quickly freezing body. I wasn't sure if it was warm because of their body heat or because of my blood. Though I suppose it doesn't matter. Not as everything was slowly fading out of existence "You were right. Red really isn't your color".

Gasping for breath, I sat up as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the dorm. As my chest heaved, I started to make out the forms of the curtains that hang around my fourposter bed. Where am I? I asked myself as I pressed my right hand against different parts of my torso. My shirt wasn't torn. Nothing hurt. And when I pulled my hand away, nothing red and sticky came away with it. Who am I? I closed my eyes and focused on slowing my breathing; letting my shoulders rise and fall with the attempt. You're Holly. I tell myself. Jessie is dead, and you're Holly Weasley. You are fourteen years old. You have two parents and seven siblings. You're a witch and you're dating a wizard named Adrian Pucey. Telling myself facts about my life always helped. It served as a way to ground myself in my present reality. Still, it wasn't enough to stop my hands from tremoring or my heart from racing. Letting out a deep exhale through my nose, I threw the covers off and swung my legs over the side. As soon as my bare feet touched the chilled wood floor, a shiver ran up my spine. In a couple more weeks it would be October and I would need to start wearing socks to bed. Having done this many times before, I don't worry about making noise as I tiptoe past the sleeping forms of Angelina, Alicia, and the two no-name roommates I don't care to know. None of them stirred. After three going on four years of this, any noise I did make probably passed unheard. I take my time walking downstairs from the girls' dormitories to the common room. When I get there, it's easy to see that the house-elves had already cleaned for the night based on the lack of litter and dust. I don't linger and head straight for the boys' dorms. It doesn't take too long to climb the stairs and get to the door labeled fourth-years. I open the door and step in like I am supposed to be there. Just like in my dorm, no one stirs. The boys hadn't changed their sleeping arrangements for the new school year, so it was easy to know who was in which bed. Passing the beds containing the two no-named boys no one cared to know, I quickly slipped into Fred's bed since he was closer to the door than George's. The minute I was laying down, Fred flinched awake and turned under the covers until we were face to face. It only took him a couple of seconds to recognize that it was me as his consciousness still lay half asleep. "Your feet are cold", he muttered groggily as he pulled the covers up higher over both of us.

"Sorry", I whispered; already starting to feel more relaxed. I'd hardly ever get enough sleep if it wasn't for Fred and George.

"You haven't had a nightmare in a while", Fred said as he shifted to get more comfortable.

"Yeah", I agreed as I closed my eyes, ready to try to go back to sleep as I breathed in Fred's familiar scent of grass and pine. "It was nice when it lasted".

It was quiet for maybe five minutes before a small crack sounded. I wouldn't have paid it any mind if it wasn't for Fred tensing next to me. I crack one eye open to watch as he sat up, bracing his weight with his arms. "Fred?" I whispered my question, opening the other eye when he didn't immediately relax. But he didn't respond to me.

Instead, there was a second sound, like the hinges of a trunk or a wardrobe opening. "Oi!" Fred called out in a raised volume as he reached over me to get to his wand resting on the nightstand near his bed. Alarmed, alert, and one-hundred percent awake, I heard a small squeak that was high pitched like a hamster, followed by the sound of a trunk lid dropping shut. "Lumos", Fred casted the moment he had his wand in hand. As the tip lit up, he sat straight with his arm stretched out. I sprung up beside Fred just in time to see a small form standing at the foot of Fred's bed. It had a hairless head, long pointy bat-like ears, and round wide eyes that seemed more startled by us that we were of it. Its face was familiar to me. Despite never seeing it before.

"Dobby?" I asked before I thought better of it. The little creature gave a second hamster squeak before snapping his fingers and disappearing into thin air.

The shock of the surprise visitor wore off quickly as Fred's shout and the light from his wand started to rouse the others. "Blimey", one of his roommates complained. "What are you trying to do, Weasley?" The unimportant roommate asked as Lee loudly groaned in the background. He rolled over in his bed and pulled his pillow over his head. I'm not sure a rowdy cheer squad of veela could wake that one.

The unimportant roommate was ignored. Fred turned his head in the direction of George's bed where George was sitting up and staring at us expectantly. "There was a house-elf going through my trunk", Fred exclaimed.

George's eyes widen as Fred's words sink in. We only knew one reason that house-elf would be rummaging through our things, and it wasn't one we liked. The second unimportant roommate scoffed. "You were dreaming Weasley. It was probably just your sister sneaking into our dorm again".

"She has nightmares", Fred and George instantly defended me being there. Fred canceled the Lumos spell, sending the room back into darkness.

"Sorry", Fred said, only to get them to go back to sleep so the three of us could discuss what just happened. He reaches over me to put his wand back on the nightstand before lying down. I follow his example. We lay quietly as we listened to the sounds of Fred and George's roommates settling back down. There was some huffing and grumbled criticisms, but they were craving sleep a little too much to make a big deal out of it. Minutes ticked by as we waited for their breaths to even out. As soon as it felt safe to do so, Fred and I sat up again and George climbed out of his bed to join us.

"You sure it was a house-elf?" George whispered as he sat crisscross at the foot of Fred's bed. Forcing Fred and me to draw our knees up to our chests so George wouldn't sit on our feet and shins.

"Yeah", Fred confirmed in a similar volume. We could have drawn the curtain closed and cast a silencing charm. But that would mean taking our eyes off Fred and George's trunks, which didn't feel like a very safe thing to do at the moment. "Big shiny eyes and batty ears. There's no question". I nodded my agreement. It was the only thing that made sense too. Other than teachers, the only non-Gryffindors that could access the common room and our dorms without using a password were house-elves (since their magic wasn't affected by apparition wards) and maybe ghosts. The figure we saw was too small to be a teacher, and a ghost wouldn't be able to open and close trunks. So, that just left house-elves.

"I'm pretty sure that it was Dobby", I whispered. I had only seen the house-elf for a couple of seconds, but he seemed familiar and what reason would any other house-elf have to go through students' trunks? "He wasn't here when I came in, but maybe we should make sure we still have it".

There was no need to clarify what I meant by it. George unfolded his legs as he climbed off Fred's bed and tiptoed to where his trunk rested at the foot of his bed. A lot quieter than Dobby had been, George opens the trunk lid halfway with his left hand and uses his right to dig through his belongings. Fred and I watched with bated breath. "It's still here", George whispered after a moment. "I buried it at the bottom of the trunk under my socks". With that knowledge, it became easier to breathe. Probably the only thing worse than having a Horcrux in your possession is to lose a Horcrux.

"Lucky that Holly came in when she did", Fred whispered as George climbed back up onto the foot of Fred's bed. "I wouldn't have heard him if Holly hadn't woken me up when she got here". Yeah, that was pure dumb luck on our part.

"But why search your trunks?" I asked. "Does Dobby somehow know that we have it?" That didn't seem likely. Not when Malfoy Sr. didn't know we had it. He should think that it's still with Ginny. So, if Malfoy Sr. had talked at home about his plan and what he had done at Flourish and Blots, then Dobby wouldn't know that we had taken the diary from Ginny. Something didn't add up.

"We should lock our trunks from now on. If we all lock our trunks maybe it won't be obvious to him who has it" George thought aloud. But Fred and I nodded. It was a good plan. "I don't think he'll come back tonight. We probably startled him. But we need to be more careful". Again, Fred and I nodded. At least, that much was apparent.

* * *

None of us got much sleep after that. Every little sound had one of us waking up. By the time breakfast rolled around, we were struggling to keep our eyes open. George had his elbow on the table so he could rest his chin on his palm. Fred was doing everything he could to keep himself from drifting off into his bowl of porridge. I was a little more used to operating on little sleep than my brothers were. Thanks to my frequent nightmares, so I was just dealing with dropping eyelids. But I couldn't focus on my meal either. Instead, I kept glancing down at my bookbag every few seconds. I had placed it under the table by my feet and had even wrapped the strap around my left ankle. That morning, we had decided that we shouldn't leave the diary in our trunks during the day; locked or otherwise. So, I was going to carry the diary around with me until we could figure out a more secure hiding place for it. It was still disguised with the _Magical Me_ book cover, but I had an uncomfortable and paranoid feeling that people would know that I was carrying something I shouldn't have.

At least, a few things made more sense once Ron, Hermione, and the other second-year boys sat down at the Gryffindor table. "For the last time Weasley", I overheard Seamus Finnigan say as he dished some scrambled eggs onto the empty plate sitting in front of him. "No one went through your stuff".

That grabbed my attention pretty fast. Looking only a couple of seats down the table, I watched as Ron, red-faced, grumbled into a newly poured glass of pumpkin juice. Harry sat next to him with a sheepish look on his face. Like he was trying to be supportive of Ron but didn't think Finnigan was wrong either. "Then who did it then?" Ron argued. "My trunk didn't get emptied out on its own". I nudged George, who was sitting next to me, with my elbow and kicked Fred from under the table. That was just too much of a coincidence to not be connected with what happened in Fred and George's dorm. My fellow triplets glanced at me with bleary eyes before slowly turning their heads in Ron's direction after I indicated that they should do so.

"You don't have anything anyone would want", Dean Thomas broke in to back up his best mate's words. "We don't know who went through your things, but it wasn't any of us". Fred and George stiffened at his words. If Ron's things got searched, that meant that Dobby didn't suspect that only Fred and George could have the diary. Or in other words, it could be reasoned that Dobby just knows that Malfoy Sr. had given the diary to a Weasley kid.

"It is strange, though", Harry spoke up after grabbing some bacon for himself. "Especially since it was only Ron's trunk. Maybe we should tell McGonagall".

"I don't think that's necessary", Hermione said as she swallowed a bite of her porridge.

Ron glared at his only female friend. "How would you like it if someone broke in and went through your things?" He asked aggressively; misinterpreting what Hermione had meant.

Hermione didn't appear to take offense. Instead, she rolled her eyes and pointed to the very front of the table. All the second-years and Fred, George, and I traced to where her finger was pointing. Percy stood between Gryffindor table and the edge of the staff dais, looking up at McGonagall, who was standing just a couple feet from him, as they talked. "I heard Percy talking about it to his year mates when I was waiting for you two in the common room", Hermione said to Ron and Harry. Even though their conversation included the other second-year boys. "Last night, someone went through his trunk too. Percy said he found all his things on the floor this morning. I bet that's why he's talking to McGonagall now".

Ron didn't apologize to Hermione for his abrasive manner. Though he did look a little contrite as he said, "I think I'll go tell them that it happened to me too". Quickly, he stuffed a piece of unbuttered toast into his mouth before getting up and hightailing it to our older brother and head of house.

Instead of watching Ron's retreating back, Fred and George turned to look at me. "So, it wasn't just us", Fred said.

"Meaning that, if it was Dobby, he doesn't know who has the diary", George reasoned, being mindful of the other students around us.

"At least that is something in our favor", I said. "But we don't know if he'll try again, so we need to find somewhere he won't think to look for the diary and somewhere no one would accidentally find it".

Fred and George nodded. Keeping the diary safe was at the forefront of all our minds. "Do you think we should tell McGonagall that someone tried to do it to Fred too? Since our roommates woke up last night". George asked. That was a good question. The two unimportant roommates in Fred and George's dorm had woken up to hear Fred claim that a house-elf tried to go through his trunk. And that did complicate things. Especially now that Percy and Ron were reporting that someone had gone through their things. It probably wouldn't be long until all of Gryffindor knew about these incidences. If we didn't share that it almost happened to Fred, and one of the unimportant roommates did, it could put attention on us. Which we didn't need. Not when we were attempting to destroy a dark, evil object. But if we did, we'd have to mention that we thought a house-elf was responsible. The two roommates had heard Fred say house-elf. To me, it was unclear if that information common knowledge if it could make things in the future. I feel like it shouldn't. But this year was shaping up to be too different from what Jessie remembered for me to feel confident in making predictions.

"I think we should", Fred said after a moment. "If we didn't know about the diary and this had happened, we would have been telling everybody. We'll make ourselves suspicious if we don't say anything and someone else does".

George nodded. It seems we were thinking along the same lines. "You go", I said to Fred. "It was your trunk, so you better tell". Fred didn't need any more prompting in getting up and joining Percy and Ron as they informed McGonagall of what occurred last night.

"What do you think is going to happen?" George asked as we watch Fred talk with our other brothers and McGonagall.

I shrugged with my shoulders feeling slightly heavier than normal. "Not a clue", I answered before looking at George. "I'm just glad I told you and Fred about all this. I think I would have gone mental if I had to handle everything that happened last year and now this year by myself". Honestly, telling Fred and George about Jessie and her memories was probably the only smart choice I've made.

George looked back at me, lips twitching into a half-smile. "We're triplets, Holls. That means we're not meant to do things by ourselves".


	43. Having A Moment

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Having A Moment

Coming from a family of ten, I was very used to being ambushed. Fred and George wanting me to participate in mischief. Gunny wanting attention. Ron wanting a sympathetic ear. Mum wanting help in the kitchen. Really, the list was endless. But it wasn't something I expected when relaxing on the grounds. It was lunchtime. Fred was taking his turn manning the diary, and George had agreed to hold on to my bookbag until it was time for our next class. Leaving me free to wait for Adrian for our planned walk. I choose to wait by sitting on a stone bench with one leg on either side. With my elbows locked and my hands pressed into the bench behind me, I braced myself as I tilted my head back; basking in the sun. This isn't something I do often in this life. As a redhead, I tend to burn easily. But this is Scotland. Sometimes you have to harvest vitamin D when it's possible. It'll be worth any additional freckles I may acquire.

I inhaled deeply through my nose and shut close my eyes. With the majority of the students at lunch or spending their lunch break elsewhere, it was quiet. Just me, some twittering birds, and a group of second-year Hufflepuffs I can hear playing a game of tag a way off. I don't do this as much as I should. It's hard to take a moment for yourself when you're plotting to control the outcome of an impending war. But I should probably make time. I have heard it's beneficial to one's mental health. "Holly", a voice interrupts my silent musings; speaking very close to my right ear.

"Merlin's beard on toast", I swore as I just about leaped out of my skin. My eyes snapped open and I turned my face from the sun. "Ron", I complained in a sharp voice once I recognized who had spoken. He wasn't alone either. Standing on my left were Harry and Hermione. The second-years were effectively flanking my sides. Somehow, they had managed to sneak up on me when I was having a moment. I guess I'm just not meant to be relaxed.

"We need to ask you something", Ron said as if he hadn't just caused my heart to skip a beat.

"No, it is physically impossible to lick your own elbow", I said sarcastically, using the first answer that popped into my mind. I glared at my little brother. Not a fully heated glare, but enough for him to know that I was annoyed. What can I say? I don't like being surprised.

Harry coughed into a closed fist, though it suspiciously didn't sound like a real cough. Ron rolled his eyes, too used to my random responses to really be taken back. "Perhaps you should listen to the question first", Hermione gave her input in a flat voice. She really needs to get out more if she ever wants to develop a sense of humor.

"Then ask", I said, rolling my eyes. Hopefully, Adrian will be here soon to save me from whatever… this is. Generally, I don't mind if talking with my siblings and their friends. Especially the younger ones. They're fun to tease. But right now, I'm feeling a bit sour about having my private moment cut short.

Hermione straightens her spine as if she had been called on to answer a question in class. Oh, Merlin. I think as I prepare myself for what looks to be the beginning of an onslaught. But in a moment of miraculous distraction, Ron beats her to it. "How do you know that you can't lick your own elbows?" His tone was elevated with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

I glanced at him with an expression that silently asked; 'what are you on?' Though a glance at Harry's equally curious face had me backtracking until I remembered the comment I had blurted out. I looked back at Ron. "Don't worry about it", I answered. I knew the elbow thing because of some TV show I had watched as a kid in my first life.

"Have you tried to lick your own elbow?" Harry asked, evidently worrying about it.

"Of course not", I said. At least, not in this life.

"Why would anyone want to lick their own elbows?" Hermione asked at the same time.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe for the challenge", he hypothesized.

I rolled my eyes. This had gotten out of hand. "Can we please stop talking about elbows?" I asked.

Ron waved his arms out, away from his body. "You're the one who mentioned elbows first!" Little brothers. They never let you forget anything.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. But nevertheless, they moved on from the topic of elbows. "We think that it's suspicious that the only people's trunks that were broken into were Fred's, Ron's, and Percy's." Of course, they would want to know about that. "I think someone is targeting the Weasleys", Hermione continued. "So, we wanted to ask you if you noticed anything in the girls' dorms last night".

I shrugged. At least their question was easy to answer. With no crucial information existing within my answers, I can just tell the truth. "My stuff appears to have been untouched, and I didn't notice anything off last night, but I wasn't there the whole night".

Of course, with my luck, the three second-years focus-in on one little detail instead of my entire answer. "What do you mean that you weren't there for the whole night?" Hermione asked, sounding more disappointed than a twelve-year-old should be capable of. Or was she thirteen? Didn't she have a September Birthday? I don't remember. Either way, I'm not sure I like her tone.

"You had another nightmare?" Ron asked knowingly before I could give a retort.

I nodded at Ron to confirm his suspicions, but, again, didn't get the chance to give a verbal response. Honestly, these brats. "Why would a nightmare explain why you weren't in your dorm?" Hermione asked. I think Harry is becoming my favorite golden trio member. It was Ron due to blood relations. But at the moment, I am appreciating how quiet he is.

This time, I don't even bother to open my mouth to respond. I'm sure someone will answer for me. "She's always getting nightmares", Ron explained. And he would know. Partially the reason that Ron's bedroom is the furthest up the stairs is because when he was younger, Ron was a light sleeper. If I started screaming in the middle of the night, he'd also wake up with his lungs wailing. Now, however, I could drop a bowling ball down the stairs in the middle of the night and he wouldn't stir. "And after she's had one, she sleeps with Fred and George".

"I don't always get nightmares", I interjected as I shook my head at Ron. Why he felt the need to share private and slightly embarrassing facts about me with his friends, I'll never know. The nightmares got less frequent after I came to Hogwarts as a first-year. Right now, my longest record of nightmare-free-nights is one week and two days.

Hermione scrunched up her nose, and studied me with great scrutiny, while Harry was trying to not look at me. Yup, he is definitely my favorite at this moment. "Aren't you a little too old to be doing that?" Hermione asked.

I could feel my face heat up. Yes. I am well aware of how pathetic it makes me look to be climbing into bed with my fellow triplets every time I wake up scared. But still, this girl really needs to learn some tact. When does that happen again? Goblet of Fire? "Well", I started to say with a smack of my lips. "How about you get stabbed in the abdomen multiple times, bleed out and die, get reborn, dream about being stabbed in the abdomen, and then you can me I'm too old to seek comfort from the brothers I shared a womb with".

After that little speech, Harry looked very uncomfortable as he stared at his feet and shifted his weight back and forth. Hermione had the decency to blush a little, but that didn't prevent her from continuing to study me with her unwavering eyes. By this point, everything I said was old news to Ron, so he, the prat, merely rolled his eyes. As if I was one who had said too much. But yet again, the three second-years had chosen to focus on something other than my main point. "Is that how you died?" Hermione asked. I found it slightly morbid at how fascinated she sounded. I narrowed my eyes at her. Really?

Harry coughed into a closed fist again as he shifted his weight one last time. He looked up from his feet but elected to focus his emerald green eyes on Hermione and not on me. Seemed he was still feeling slightly embarrassed for me. "I don't think this is something we should be asking about", he said slowly, but he was still heard.

"Indeed", a new voice said, coming from behind all four of us. The golden trio merely turned their shoulders to look, but I leaned backward and arched my neck until I was looking at the newcomer from an upside-down angle. Adrian stood without his school robe on. Instead, he was carrying it with it draped over his left arm. His left hand was buried into his pants pocket, while his bookbag hanged from his left shoulder. It gave him a sort of lopsided appearance. It didn't help that his Slytherin tie was slightly askew too. But with his same chiseled chin, steely gray eyes, and sloped nose, I didn't mind. I was actually rather enjoying this new angle of Adrian. It was giving me a better appreciation of his Adam's apple. "You shouldn't be discussing something so private out in the open", he said sternly. I need to learn how to sound like that. Especially since it had the second-years properly cowed into silence. Adrian gives each of the second-years a look and waits for them to break eye contact with him before moving on to the next. Surprisingly, it wasn't Hermione that took the longest to break. It was Ron. I wonder why. After my little brother and his friends, Adrian moved on to me. "Are we still taking a walk today? Or did you have a change of heart?"

Oh, thank Merlin. Adrian had a built-in escape excuse for me to separate myself from the questions of observant second-years. "No", I said, before I straightened my neck and sat completely upright. I swung my left leg over the bench to join my right leg on the other side before standing and turning to fully face my boyfriend with Ron just a couple of inches away from me. "We're still walking. I was waiting for you when these three saw me and decided to ask questions".

Adrian nodded as if that was what he knew to be the case all along. He probably did. Adrian holds out his right arm for me; the one that wasn't holding all of his stuff. Stepping around Ron, I worked to not look too eager as I put my hand in the crook of his elbow. A small tingly feeling shot up my fingers at the contact. "Where would you like to go?" Adrian asked.

I hummed as I thought about it, happy for the excuse to think of things not related to being stabbed in the gut, burglarizing house-elves, or possessed dark objects. "How about around the lake?" I suggested. We should be able to do that before the lunch break ends.

Adrian nodded his assent, but Ron wasn't as agreeable. "You're leaving? On a date", He said the word date like it was the name of an infectious skin disease. "When we were trying to talk to you". Ron sounded a bit disappointed in me. It was kind of cute, but not enough to get me to choose to be interrogated by a bunch of second-years over a potentially romantic stroll around the lake with someone who won't ask me a bunch of questions.

"Yes", I answered with my best take of a matter-of-fact tone of voice. Adrian and I turned around to leave with Adrian taking charge, but a thought had me pausing. Halting Adrian in the process, I looked over my right shoulder. "Oh", I said to my little brother and company. "Don't actually get stabbed. Trust me. It's not fun".

* * *

"Thanks for getting me out of that", I said once the lake came into view. I took a deep breath. The outside air was just as good here as it was at the stone bench I had been sitting on. But for some reason, it tasted sweeter.

"You know, you could've just walked away from them whenever you didn't want to answer their questions". Adrian pointed out as we neared the bank of the lake. Soon our steps weren't soundless as we transitioned from soft grass to gritty gravel. "You are bigger than them".

I gave a small shrug. He was right, of course. But that wasn't really the type of rapport I wanted to nurture with Ron. I closed my eyes for a moment and let Adrian lead. It was time to get back to that moment I was having prior to the golden trio's interruption. Only this time I would get to share it with Adrian. On an exhale, I let my muscles lose some of their tension. At this moment life was good, and I didn't want anything to ruin it. "So, any idea about what we're supposed to do when walking as a couple?" I asked as I opened my eyes. Just in time to spot one of the giant squid's tentacles disappear back into the depths of the lake. I wonder if the squid is having a good day.

Adrian pressed closer to my side as a pair of Ravenclaw girls passed us on his left; giggling as they gossiped about something. "I thought you would know", he said. "Assuming that your past life had more experience going on dates than mine".

I take my time in replying to him as we kept up a slow pace, following the shoreline. It was pleasant to listen to the sound of water lapping against the rocky bank. "I suppose, but none of my experiences involved going on walks. Though one of my last life's boyfriends did try to convince me to go camping".

Despite the two Ravenclaw girls being a ways away at this point, Adrian maintained his close presence against my side. I didn't mind it. "And how did you avoid camping?" He asked.

"I broke up with him".

Adrian snorted once. "Right, I suppose that means we will be limiting our outdoor activities to walking".

I wrinkled my nose as I smiled a little. "Yes, that would be wise". It wasn't that I didn't like the outdoors. I just didn't enjoy mosquito bites or sharing a tent with my sweating, smelly ex-boyfriend. "What about you?" I asked. "What's your dating experience like?"

With my hand resting in the crook of his elbow, I felt it when Adrian briefly tensed. "I'll be able to tell you after our walk is over". He said once he had relaxed again.

"What?" I asked without really needing an answer. "This is your first date? And here I thought Regulus would have had girls chasing after him if you had looked anything like your brother".

"Well, I was a bit busy serving the Dark Lord", Adrian retorted with a smidge of annoyance laced into his tone. His death eater days were always an unpleasant topic. "Besides, Which witches I could associate with was a decision left up to Regulus' parents. And they preferred the idea of an arranged marriage". Right. That served as a good reminder that Adrian's first life was drastically different from mine.

We had to duck a little as we walked under the low hanging branches of an alder tree. "Is that common for purebloods?" I asked once we were both standing at full height again. "For them to be in an arranged marriage?"

"No. At least, not anymore". Adrian answered. "It was rare even during Regulus' time. Now the norm is for a pureblood son to express interest in a girl and his family is supposed to open a dialogue with her family. But that's only when he's thinking about marriage. In this modern-day, we can date without parental involvement as long as we respect each other and don't do anything that would tarnish the other's reputation". Adrian paused as we walked past the halfway mark of the lake. If it were possible, I think we would have walked at an even slower pace if it meant we could extend this moment. It was nice to just be us. The two of us without any pretense or people watching or interactions in judgment. "Reputations aren't as much of a concern for wizards as it is for witches", Adrian continued. I had a pretty good sense of where this was going.

"I think that's generally true for a lot of things. Not just reputations", I said; both agreeing with him and expanding on his thought.

Adrian bobbed his chin down once. "But if a wizard spreads a rumor about a witch or if they both get too forward with each other, then the witches odds of marrying well is lowered".

I appreciate the fact that Adrian is consciously aware of this inequity in our society. But I was a little confused as to why we were talking about in on our first official date as a couple. "Is this your way of telling me that you don't want to kiss me?" I asked. Although based on the summer we had just had, I suspect that to not be the case.

"No", Adrian immediately said in a voice that was louder than the one he had been using all day. "I was just pointing out how things are different now, and that I won't do anything give you a bad name". Oh, how sweet. He sounded so earnest. It was refreshing when comparing Adrian to sweaty, smelly camping guy.

I hugged Adrian's arm; the one that I was holding. "Thanks", I said. "But don't worry about it. It's not like the Weasley name is very respected in pureblood circles anyway. I'd rather that we just focus on making each other happy and ignore anyone that is catty and nosy enough to care about how we behave within our own relationship". Though we would probably have to take steps to act like two teenagers in a relationship rather than two young adults in a relationship. At least, for our parents' sake. And I really didn't want to have another sex talk with Mum.

"Holly", Adrian said as we almost reached our starting point. For some reason, the lake felt smaller to me than it actually looked. That or time flew by. Adrian stopped walking. He turned to face me so our two shoulders were parallel. Successful separating our arms in the process, but he didn't break contact. Instead, he took my left hand in his right, and my right hand in his left; after removing it from his pocket. Though he did have to adjust the robe he was holding to make sure it didn't drop into the ground. Oh, boy. This was going to be serious, wasn't it? "With me, you do need to care about reputations and how the pureblood circles work. My family operates in and out of that circle. We play all sides, but it is a delicate balance. One that I want to bring you into". Serious, indeed.

"Adrian", I said, trying to match his tone of voice. "This is way too serious for a first date. All we really have to do is complement each other's physical appearances, mention the weather, and discuss a common interest". Adrian let out a sigh when it became obvious to him that I wasn't on the same page as him. "Planning for the future is more like a one-year-anniversary thing. You know, like we date for a year and then start to talk about making more adult-like plans. In this life, right now, we're fourteen. Let's just enjoy it". I squeezed his hands in both of mine. And gave him a soft smile. I may have to worry about the impending future; knowing about a war and all. But there was no reason that he couldn't enjoy his second childhood to the fullest.

Locking eyes with me, Adrian leaned forward until our foreheads were touching. "You have a lot to learn", he muttered lowly.

I laughed a little but managed to keep my mouth closed. "I could say the same about you".


	44. A Haphazard Plan

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A Haphazard Plan

Madam Pince was getting both agitated and suspicious of us. I could tell by the frequency of her thinly veiled glares, and how often she walked past our table. We couldn't afford to procrastinate any longer. Not when a house-elf was searching our trunks and we possessed an object filled to the brim with dark magic. We hadn't seen any sign of Dobby since that night and we had no evidence that someone had been snooping through our things. Maybe Fred and I spotting Dobby in the act had scared the house-elf enough that he wouldn't try to search for the diary again. It probably didn't help that I had called Dobby out by name. Especially since I had never met him before. It was wishful thinking on our parts. Surely, there's no way Dobby would just give up. That would be too easy.

So, here we were. Sitting at a table in the library with tall stacks of books that we probably wouldn't reshelve. Which, now that I think of it, may explain why Madam Pince was looking so disconcerted. But her unease was unavoidable since Fred, George, and I had two very important questions that we needed to find answers to. Those questions are;

1\. How do we destroy a Horcrux without fiend fyre or basilisk venom?

2\. How can we make our trunks house-elf proof?

The problem with both questions was the lack of available information. Any information regarding Horcruxes, for obvious reasons, was in the restricted section, and the only students who had access to those dangerous books were NEWT level scholars or those who had written consent from a faculty member. And even though it's not restricted, information on house-elves is limited. Specifically, house-elf magic. I blame the wizarding world's history of believing that wizards are the most powerful race. Because of that, it appears that researchers never thought to learn from other magical races. Except for the goblins. All the goblin wars kind of made it hard to ignore their strength and knowledge. That meant that the only thing we could think to do was scour every book that mentions dark magic or house-elves in the hopes that we would find one little fact that we could build upon. After two hours of this, we hadn't made any progress and I felt an irrational temptation the Hunt down Hermione and tell her everything about my past life, what I knew, and what I changed just so I could get her to do all the research for us. If I were to compare Fred, George, and I to the golden trio, or at least the golden trio from the book series, we would fall woefully short. Fred and George were smart. Hell, if they studied as much as Hermione did, they'd probably be on par with her. But they lacked her appetite for knowledge. It helped that I knew things that we could use to make plans. But that was the only thing I really brought to the table. I considered myself to be loyal like Ron. Fred and George were too. It was kind of a family trait. But we didn't feel things as deeply as he did. Nor were we good a coming up with strategies. Ron was good at planning for a long game, while we preferred more guerilla warfare like tactics. And none of us had Harry's selflessness. So, why had I gotten us involved? At least, that was one question I could answer. We needed to save Fred's life. Of course, I could just wait until the final battle and lock Fred in a closet... But then I would have to lock Percy in a closet too... I think that might be my last-ditch backup plan.

Feeling like my eyes would pop out of my skull if I read one more word, I decided to rest for a moment. Closing my eyes, I let my head lay on top of the pages of _A History of 18_ _th_ _Century Magical Objects._ After reading the first chapter, I think the only thing more boring than this book is the person who wrote it. And that's coming from someone who, in their past life, had to read the _Communist Manifesto_ and _The Divine Comedy_ in undergrad. I had only closed my eyes for a minute when I heard Fred say, "George, I think Holly's dead". I grumbled at him without picking my head up.

"No, I don't think she's dead", George said. "I think she just realized that she doesn't like reading as much as she claims too".

"Huh", Fred continued. "I guess all those times she had a book open at the home was just a ruse".

"A farce".

"To make us think that she actually liked books".

"When she really just didn't want to play with us", George finished.

At that, I slowly looked up but allowed my chin to keep the weight of my head on the open book. "Fiction is completely different from nonfiction", I said in defense of myself. "And playing blind man's bluff with you two was absolute torture".

From the other side of the table, Fred and George both grinned at me. But it wasn't with their usual energetic energy. They were also feeling the strain of having no success. "Maybe we should stop for today", Fred suggested. "We won't get much done if all of us are frustrated".

George nodded his head as he closed the book he was reading. A book titled; _Elves in the House._ Why could I have gotten that one? That title sounded a lot more interesting than the book I was currently using as a pillow. "I think I've been reading the same line for the last five minutes", He admitted as he reached up to rub the bridge of his nose.

"None of us found anything useful", I reminded them. "This means another sleepless night". Since the Dobby incident, we've been sleeping in shifts and rotating the diary between the three of us. And the lack of sleep was starting to affect us. We were yawning during class, passing out during history of magic lectures, and black bags had started forming under our eyes. If it wasn't for Alicia allowing me to borrow her special face cream to hide said bags, I'm not sure I could stomach seeing Adrian during all this. It's funny really. As Jessie, I had cared too much about my appearance. As Holly, I generally don't give a damn about how I look. But now that I was operating in the dating scene again, I do care about what Adrian thinks when he's looking at me.

Fred nodded and used his left hair to ruffle his hair as he sighed. "It's not like we would have been able to sleep tonight even if we had found something". He was right, of course. Even if we had found answers to our questions, the odds of us being able to apply said answers, before nighttime rolled around, was thin. "I'll take tonight's shift", Fred offered. "It's my turn anyway". Except it wasn't Fred's turn. He had stayed up last night. Sometimes, Fred took his roll of eldest triplet a little too seriously.

Finding the energy, I forced myself to sit up. "No", I said, shaking my head once. "I'll stay up tonight. I know Wood scheduled an early quidditch practice tomorrow morning, and I don't want you two to fall asleep when you're a hundred feet off the ground".

"Oh, but it's okay if we fall asleep when we're eighty feet off the ground?" Fred asked in sarcastic humor.

I ignored him. "Besides, I'm behind on my charms homework. I can use tonight to catch up, and I can sleep in Binns class tomorrow".

"It's too bad that Dobby can't destroy a Horcrux", George said in a contemplative tone with his arms crossed over his chest. "Then we'd just have to figure out a way to recruit him, and both our problems would be solved". A moment passed as George thought, and Fred and I just stared at him. Not much was known about house-elf magic. Were they powerful enough to destroy a Horcrux? If they could, then we were a trio of idiots that had approached our problems from wrong angles.

"Do you think-" I started to ask.

"That we should try that?" Fred finished for me. George broke out of his thoughts and blinked at us in confusion.

"If it worked, it would save us a lot of time", I said.

"It would kill two pixies with one spell", Fred agreed.

Oh, this was exciting. Especially, if it meant we didn't have to do any more research. I leaned forward. "Dobby already knows that the diary is bad, so if we can convince him to help us, then we'll have a way to destroy it and we won't have to worry about Dobby taking it." Fred nodded his enthusiasm. "And then we'd just have to figure out a way to talk to him to get him on board".

Fred stood up and clapped a hand on George's left shoulder. "George, you're a genius", he declared.

George shrugged, having caught up to our line of thought. "I think it's too soon to get excited, but I'll take it. I am a genius. Thanks for noticing".

* * *

George was right. With that spontaneous plan, there were somethings that we didn't think about. Firstly, we didn't know if house-elves could destroy Horcruxes. So, assuming we got Dobby to help us, there was still the chance that we'd fail and then we would have revealed ourselves to Dobby even more so than we've already had. Secondly, there was Dobby's status to consider. Right now, he was property. Magically bound to the whims of the Malfoy family. At any point in time, if the Malfoys got even a little suspicious of Dobby, they could ask him anything and he'd have to answer. That's not the type of ally you really want to have. So, if we chose to ask Dobby for help, we'd either have to plan on only relying on him to destroy the diary or figure out how to trick the Malfoys into freeing Dobby. Of course, the ethical thing to do was to figure out how to liberate Dobby. But we're only fourteen, and none of us have Harry's dumb luck. There's only so much that we're capable of accomplishing. Thirdly, if house-elves are able to destroy Horcruxes, why would we need to ask Dobby for help? There's a whole kitchen full of house-elves at Hogwarts. We could just take the diary down to them and ask them to destroy it. They'd probably be thrilled to help. Ultimately, we had to weigh the pros and cons. Pro: we would have a seemingly unlimited workforce of house-elves to help us prevent a war. Con: at any point in time, they could reveal what we're doing to Dumbledore or any staff member, and then I could potentially be exposed. Con: house-elf magic won't be strong enough to destroy a Horcrux and then a bunch of house-elves will know things we wished they didn't. Con: They could refuse to help us. Con: we do nothing to help Dobby, he remained enslaved, and then there's no one to rescue Harry, Ron, and Hermione when they are trapped in Malfoy Manor during the Deathly Hallows. If that still happens.

After much deliberation, we decided to act on impulsivity and test or luck with Dobby. That way we could focus on two things and continue to put off finding a way to destroy the scary Horcrux. We would figure out a way to rig a house-elf trap and a way to free Dobby. The first one, we felt was completely up our alley, and we were actually eager to design a trap. If it worked, maybe we could make a Percy sized trap for fun. The second one, we knew what we needed to do. It was very simple in theory. Get a Malfoy to give Dobby an article of clothing. But we had no idea how to actually achieve it… You know, I think this might be a 'one step at a time' sort of problem.

Despite offering to let Fred and George sleep, they decided to stay awake so we could start right away. After dinner, we staked out prime real estate in the common room; right in front of the fire. In a rare stroke of luck, none of the NEWT level students asked us to move. Though that may be partially due to the fact that the three of us were sitting on the floor in a semi-circle with Fred's empty trunk, some string, exploding snap cards, old socks, miscellaneous potion ingredients, and our wands between us. After our first three years at Hogwarts, most of our fellow students don't approach us when it looks like we are up to no good. Though, some people never learn.

When we were trying to figure out how we could get Dobby to go into the trunk and not be able the apparate away, Percy approached us. He stood over us and adjusted his gleaming prefect's badge that was pinned to the front of his robes. "Whatever it is that you three are doing, stop", Percy demanded.

I looked up at our third eldest brother and raised an eyebrow. "You're not even going to ask us what this is?"

Percy briefly glanced at the empty trunk before looking back at me. He folded his arms across his chest as if that confirmed his decision. "It doesn't matter", he said firmly. "Whatever this is, I know that it will break at least one school rule, and I know that I won't like it". Well, at least he was being honest with himself. That's a quality worthy of being envious about.

"How do you like that?" Fred asked rhetorically, smirking at Percy, before turning his head to talk to George. "He doesn't trust us, Forge".

George scoffed before saying, "I know Gred. If it wasn't for the red-hair, I'd think we weren't even related". I rolled my eyes and tried to share a commiserating look with Percy. Fred and George had officially started one of their bits. But Percy kept his eyes locked on our identical siblings, completely on guard in case they tried to pull something. Really, though. I should feel grateful that Fred and George are participating in their old antics. This would be their first bit since George punched Fred. It was an improvement.

"And after everything we've done for him", Fred continued as Percy took his turn to scoff.

"Providing him with countless opportunities to assign us detention".

"Making sure he was never bored while he was on duty".

"And this is the thanks we get", Fred and George said in sync, shaking their heads in disapproval at Percy.

Unsurprisingly, Percy wasn't moved. I doubt anyone would have been moved by that little speech. "I promise, we're not breaking any rules", I broke in before Percy could say something that would give my fellow triplets more comedic material to work with.

Percy pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, before angling his head down so he could look squarely at me. Which, seemed like a pointless action to me. Why would he adjust his glasses before looking down? Wouldn't gravity negate his adjustment? "How do you know that?" Percy asked me, sounding like he was calling me on a bluff.

"Because, I am positive that no one has attempted what we are trying to do", I answered confidently. And I truly meant it, too. Who tries to trap someone else's house-elf in a school trunk?

"What can we say, Perce", George said with a carefree shrug.

"We're trailblazers", Fred finished.

Percy sighed very deeply as if dealing with us took time off his lifespan. "If I hear anything", Percy started to say as he unfolded his arms so he could point a finger at each of us in turn. "Involving you three and a trunk, I will make sure that you have detention every Saturday until the end of term". Percy finished his threat before he stalked off, not giving Fred and George the time to rile him up further. We were used to Percy's threats, so as soon as he was out of earshot, we shared a quick laugh before returning to work.

"How are we going to get the trunk to close once Dobby's inside of it?" George asked lowly enough so we weren't overheard. A few people had started to go to bed, but we were still being careful. It helped that no one but us knew who Dobby was at the moment. But we didn't want anyone connecting the dots down the road.

"I think the bigger concern is preventing him from escaping by apparition", I countered.

"We'll have to look into anti-disapparition jinxes", Fred reasoned.

But I shook my head. "Those work on humans, but if it worked on house-elves too, then he wouldn't be able to apparate into Hogwarts whenever he wanted to".

We didn't get to talk about potential solutions, because three more people decided to approach us. Despite it being late enough that everyone in their year should be in bed.

"We want to help", Ron said with Harry and Hermione standing by his sides.

"You want to help us reinvent Fred's trunk?" I asked, trying to make what we're doing sound very unappealing.

Hermione rolled her eyes as if she thought we were insulting her intelligence. "You're trying to figure out a way to keep your trunks safe from intruders", she said, all-knowingly. Well… I started to think as I exchanged a look with Fred and George. She's half right. Sort of. "We want to make sure our trunks are secure too".

"Why?" I asked.

"As you pointed out to Holly, whoever is going through people's trunks is targeting us Weasleys", George said, as he played with the string.

Hermione squinted her eyes at me. "You told them about what we talked about?"

I shrugged as Ron rolled his eyes. Why wouldn't I tell Fred and George? "She tells them everything", Ron informed his female friend. And really, that shouldn't be surprising. We are triplets after all.

"So," Fred started to ask. "Have any of you tried to lick your own elbows since you last talked to Holly?"

Funnily enough, all three second-years started to look a bit embarrassed. "I think what we really should be asking", said George. "Is what these three want to hide in their trunks".

There's a thought. "That's right", I said, taking George's comment and running with it. "Someone has already gone through Ron's trunk, so why would they do it again when there are four other Weasley trunks they haven't gone through yet".

Fred hummed to himself. "It is suspicious", he said.

"What could three second-years have that they don't want anyone to know about?" George asked. Of course, we were fairly confident that they didn't have anything they weren't supposed to. After all, we had the Diary. It was currently in my book back that resting against my side. And we still had possession of the marauders' map. There wouldn't be any time turners until next year, and the half-blood prince book wouldn't come into play until after Fred, George, and I had left Hogwarts. We were really just asking the second-years these questions to make them uncomfortable and distract them from the project we were currently working on.

"I think", Hermione started, mostly to prevent us from questioning them further. "That you know more than you're letting on". Now it was our turn to feel uncomfortable. That comment was a little too close to the mark. But we need not worry. "You", Hermione singled out Fred. "Told McGonagall that you saw a house-elf try to go through your things. So, clearly you know more than us". I was able to relax a bit. Clearly, the younger Gryffindor girl didn't suspect a whole lot.

But her comment did give me an idea. Hopefully, one that would stick. "Hermione, do you know what a house-elf is?"

"They're in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them"._ She answered, but it didn't sound very convincing.

"What about you, Harry?" I asked.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck like he wasn't sure if answering me meant he was taking a side. Silly boy. There weren't any sides yet. "Sirius has one. He isn't very nice". That must be Kreacher. Well, that's a piece of information to file away for later.

Fred nudged me. Probably to silently ask me what I was doing. But I didn't look away from the second-years. I'll just have to explain later. "Ron, can you tell Hermione what a house-elf is?"

Ron sighed, seeing this as pointless. But he complied with my request. "A house-elf it this little batty creature that works for wizarding families". That was eloquently put.

George seemed to agree, based on the snorting sound he made. "work is probably the wrong word", he said.

"What do you mean?" Hermione genuinely asked. Finally distracted from what we were doing with Fred's trunk.

Harry exhaled loudly from his nose. "House-elves, they don't have a choice in who they want to work for, and they don't get paid", he explained unevenly. Evidently, the concepts of house-elves didn't sit well for Harry. Hopefully the same will still be true for Hermione.

"They're slaves?" Hermione asked at a higher volume, sounding personally offended. Good. Both Harry and Ron gave her a confirming nod. "That's barbaric", Hermione declared. Perfect.

"So, maybe", I said, bringing their attention back to me. "You shouldn't be asking yourselves why someone would go through Ron's and Percy's things. But who would use a house-elf to go through someone's things?" And a seed was planted.

"Then we can figure out how to help the house-elf", Hermione said, taking the bait. With a new goal at the forefront of her mind, Hermione said to Ron and Harry, "Let's go". She turned, heading for a different part of the common room. They moaned and grumbled after her, but nevertheless, followed. I'm not sure what she thought she could accomplish tonight. Curfew had already passed. So it wasn't like they could leave the common room. All they really could do was talk. But that was probably it. If I was Hermione and I had just learned about an enslaved species, I'd want to press Ron and Harry for every little thing they knew concerning house-elves.

But the important thing is that it left Fred, George, and I alone to build our elf trap and give ourselves sleep deprivation.


	45. Life Goes On

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Life Goes On

Somehow, probably due to an act of wizard God, we managed to stay awake the whole day with exception of napping in Binns' class. But everyone does that, so I'm not even sure we have to call it an exception. Though the day didn't pass without some struggles. Oliver Wood ripped into Fred and George for their lack of effort during that morning's quidditch practice. He described them as 'flying so sluggishly that they looked like a couple of houseflies on their last legs of life'. In potions class, Adrian banned me from touching anything after I almost added the wrong ingredient to our deflating draught, twice. After that, during all of our shared class, he kept looking at me like he suspected that I would keel over at any moment. I'm surprised he didn't make any comments or haul me off to see Madam Pomfrey. McGonagall nearly gave George detention when she called on him to answer a question and he gave a generic answer that was better suited for a charms lesson. I nearly walked into the boys' lavatory by mistake. And Lee laughed at Fred for a good five minutes after Fred rested his elbow in the butter dish and didn't notice. Needless to say, we took the first opportunity we could get to retire for the night.

This was one night's sleep all three of us were looking forward to. After nights of protecting the diary and then last night when we constructed our trap, we were ready to get some serious REM cycles. Fred's trunk had been restored to its place in front of his four-poster bed. The Diary was safely stored inside of it, while the rest of his things were spread between the school provided wardrobe, my trunk, and George's trunk. We had to ensure that there was enough room for Dobby for the brief amount of time he would be inhabiting Fred's trunk. Of course, it was risky to leave the diary in the trunk but we needed bait to ensure Dobby would get close enough to spring the trap. We made precautions. Primary, in the use of a sticking charm enhanced by an intruder charm to let us know if anyone or anything touched the diary. That in addition to a well-placed muffliato charm to make sure no one but Fred and George heard the alarm in case it did go off. We were ready. Or at least, as ready as one can be when they are working with things they don't fully understand. Still, that night as I brushed my teeth and put on a pair of pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt that used to belong to Charlie, I didn't feel anxious, worried, or agitated about the things to come. That was partly due to the fact that I was too tired to give a damn. But also because I recognized that Fred, George, and I had wracked our brains to come up with this plan. We thought through different scenarios. Problem-solved to the best of our abilities, and tried to make pragmatic decisions that would lead to ourselves and our family being safe. We had done our best. And if our best wasn't good enough, we'd just have to figure out how to survive with the consequences.

"Holly", Angelina asked as I climbed into my bed.

"Hmm?" I mumbled as I glanced in her direction. Unlike me, she was still in her school uniform. She was on her bed, lying on her stomach with her herbology textbook and a roll of parchment in front of her. Homework. There was something I had forgotten to do today… Oh, well.

Angelina took her time as she punctuated a sentence on the roll of parchment before raising her head to look at me. "Has Fred said anything to you?"

I settled myself. Lying on my side, and resting my head on the pillow. Already, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. If I was lucky, I wouldn't get any nightmares tonight. Though I was so drained, I'm not sure even a nightmare would be enough to wake me. "Fred says a lot of things", I answered. In the back of my mind, I guessed that this might have to do with the letters the two of them had been exchanging over the summer holidays. But at this point, my mouth was working without consent from my brain. "Today, he talked about Wood being a closet sadist, that Lockhart would probably be a peacock if he were an Animagus and platypuses. Though, I'm not sure why". Honestly, he may not have said anything about platypuses. At around mid-day, I think I started to hear things that weren't actually being said.

"No", Angelina said. She had waited until I finished talking, but she had begun to shake her head the moment I had mentioned Wood. "I meant", she spoke slowly, as if the right words were invading her. Which wasn't like Angelina at all. She normally possessed a quick wit with a bit of bite in it. "Has he said anything to you about me?"

Ah, so this was about teen romance drama. I closed my eyes, and immediately I felt less of a strain. It had never felt so good to have my eyes closed. "Is this about the letters you two were sending each other?" I asked as I let out a very loud yawn. My voice sounded very far away. Like it wasn't coming from my mouth.

"I thought he felt the same way", Angelina admitted. "At least, his replies made me think he did. But then he just stopped sending letters altogether. We've been talking since the start of term. But George or Lee is always with him, and I can never get him when he's on his own". Yes, that does sound like a problem. "It's like we hadn't been writing to each, and everything is as it was before the summer holidays. So, has he said anything to you… Holly?" There was a pause. And in any other circumstance, I would have responded to my friend. No matter how awkward this line of conversation would become. But I was currently losing the ability to move. "Holly?" Angelina tried again. "Did you fall asleep?" Almost, Angelina. Almost.

* * *

Despite the trap being set, we didn't catch Dobby that night, or the second, or the third. Fred and George checked to make sure the diary was there every morning, and it was never disturbed. Maybe this meant Dobby was too scared to try to get the diary after his first attempt. Or maybe he was just biding his time. We had no way of knowing, so we left the trap set and went about our lives. It was worrisome, but things felt more optimistic after getting three nights of uninterrupted sleep. I didn't even get disturbed by one of my nightmares. Fred and George regained the energy to perform mischievous acts with Lee. They even managed to earn detention when a prefect caught them stuffing a suit of armor with an unhealthy amount of bubotubers' puss. Where did they get it? No one knows. I was able to get rid of the bags that had formed under my eyes and made sure I made eye contact with Adrian often. Just to make sure he remembered what I looked like prior to my sleep-deprived state. Ginny settled into her new house. We still didn't see her very often, but when we did she looked less grim. She was often in the company of the Carrow Twins. The three of them weren't a giggly bunch, portraying a very different Ginny than the one we see at home. But they didn't seem unfriendly either. In truth, I had no idea about what I should make of this development. I suppose it's a good thing that Ginny is no longer eating her meals alone or clinging solely to Adrian anymore.

October rolled around, and the leaves were starting to change color. The whole of Gryffindor house started to hear more and more from Hermione as she preached about house-elf equality. Not that anyone was listening. Even Ron and Harry were tuning her out, despite being the two that first told her about house-elves. The first Hogsmeade trip was announced, and I encountered a new problem. What the hell was I going to get Adrian for his upcoming birthday? I had no money. Nor did I have any crafty skills to make him anything. What would Adrian even like? He had no interest in accessories. Quidditch was a past time of his, but vastly out of my price range. He didn't have a sweet tooth and turned up his nose at anything that looked remotely cute. Adrian was also endearingly innocent for a person who was a death eater in his past life. So, I think he would be overwhelmed and embarrassed if I offered to let him feel my chest as a birthday present. Most likely, I'd just get some comment about how that wasn't proper. And just think, when December comes around, I'll get to go through this dilemma all over again when I try to find Adrian a Christmas gift. Bloody hell.

Adrian's birthday had taken possession of my thoughts. And while it was frustrating that I couldn't think of the perfect gift, it was a nice alternative to thinking about You-Know-Who's soul fragment. So, when Adrian appeared at Gryffindor table one morning, his stern façade a stark contrast to the general cheer and hoopla of my housemates, I just assumed he was going to ask me to go with him on the fast-approaching Hogsmeade weekend. We had talked about another Hogsmeade date during my fourteenth birthday. But instead, over the ribbing and teasing of Fred and George who had assumed the same thing as me, Adrian said, "Holly, you need to come with me". It was his foreboding tone that made me confident he wasn't trying to whisk me away for a little romantic rendezvous.

"Why?" I asked as I dropped a piece of half-eaten toast on my plate, and twisted around to get a better look at him. "What's happened?" It couldn't be something chamber related. I assured myself. If it was then the whole school would have known about it and breakfast wouldn't be occurring like it always does. Seeing that I was taking this seriously, Fred and George stopped their teasing.

All three of us were focusing on Adrian like he was the town crier. "Your sister needs you", he said

I swing my legs over the bench to join Adrian without thinking about it. For Adrian to ask me to help Ginny, after stating multiple times that it was important not to hover, something awful must have happened. "We'll come too," George said around a mouthful of hash browns as Fred started to stand up.

"No", Adrian said quickly, before my fellow triplets could completely mobilize. "I think it's best if Holly handles this on her own". He gave me a pointed looked as he offered me his arm. Just like he had when we walked around the lake.

Right. I think, as I loop my arm under his and rest my hand in the crook of his elbow. "I'll fill you guys in during class", I said to Fred and George. "Look after my bookbag, will you?" I added as Adrian steered me away. As we exited the great hall, I tried to wrack my brains for some clue about what could possibly be wrong. Why did Adrian think it best that I help Ginny alone? Why wasn't he able to help her? Did Ginny get her period? That might explain why Adrian's acting all tight-lipped. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" I asked as he led us to the opposite end of the entrance hall.

Adrian exhaled through his nose before answering. "She won't stop crying". Okay… but it would be better to know what made her cry in the first place. Adrian stopped us at the foot of the grand staircase. He turns and breaks our connected arms so that we may look at each other in the eye. "Last night, someone went through Ginevra's trunk. When she woke up this morning all of her things were scattered across the first-year girls' dorm". Well, that sounds familiar. I guess that's our proof that Dobby hasn't given up yet. It's just a pity that he hadn't attempted going through Fred's trunk again before anyone else's. "We've already reported the incident to Professor Snape", Adrian continued. "But she's convinced that someone did it because she's not welcomed in Slytherin".

Although, I know Dobby is the culprit, I ask anyway. "And is she?" At Adrian's questioning stare, I elaborate. "Unwelcomed".

He sighed as he turned and started walking again. I followed half a step behind. "Only by some", he answered. "Primarily members of the sacred twenty-eight, but not all. The rest of us think of her as just another first-year. She follows our house rules and is accepted". Well, that's something at least. I think as Adrian heads for the stairs that lead to the dungeons. I shiver two steps down. The dungeon air is always cold. But soon it would be borderline freezing. I never figured out how the Slytherins survived living down here during the winter months.

Adrian and I didn't have to go very far. On the last step sat three first-years in Slytherin robes; two brunettes and one sobbing redhead. "Don't cry, Ginevra. We'll make whoever did this pay", said the brunette on the left.

"It's nothing a bat-bogey hex can't solve", said the brunette on right.

Needing no invitation, I moved away from Adrian. "Perhaps I can help", I said to announce my presence to the Slytherin first-years. All three of them spun around as if they had just been caught doing something criminal. The two brunettes, identical by the looks of it, stared at me with distrust. This must be the Carrow twins. While Ginny's blotchy tear-stained face expressed relief.

"Holly!", she exclaimed as I settled myself on the step behind the first years. "It was awful. All my things were thrown around the room. Everyone saw my underwear".

Yes. When you are eleven, I can see how that would be a traumatic thing. I tilt my head back so I could look at Adrian, who was standing behind us girls like he was some sort of guard. "Are public displays of affection still not allowed?" I asked without any sarcasm… Okay, there was a little sarcasm.

Adrian rolled his eyes and looked heavenward. As if he was asking Merlin why he puts up with me. I sometimes as that question myself. "In this situation", he said slowly. "It would be acceptable".

That was all I needed. I looked back at Ginny and opened my arms. "Ginny, come here", I said.

Ginny leaned forward until she was close enough for me to wrap my arms around her. It kind of looked like she had thrown herself up the stairs. She cried into the front of my robes. I tightened my grip on her and decided to just let her cry for a couple of moments. She had probably been holding everything in for a while.

The Carrow twins' distrustful stares turned into glares. "We were handling it just fine on our own", Said the twin on the left.

"Why did you bring her?" The twin on the right asked Adrian, sounding spiteful. They kind of reminded me of mini Stimpsons. Only less annoying.

"Sometimes", Adrian said in his best role model voice. "we need to rely on our family". The twins scoffed and turned back around, deciding to ignore us as it appeared that they were outnumbered. "I'll see you in class", Adrian said to me. I tilted my head back again to see him.

"Okay", I agreed as I rubbed Ginny's back.

"There are about twenty minutes left before breakfast is over. I suggest you move before that", Adrian finished as he turned and went back up the stairs. It was Thursday, so neither of us had to start our day in Snape's potions lab.

I watched Adrian's back until it disappeared before turning back to the three first-years. "Ginny", I said softly as I coaxed her face out of my robes. She sniffed but complied; blinking up at me with red-rimmed brown eyes. "I don't think anyone from Slytherin house went through your things". Just like with everyone except Fred and George, I couldn't be completely honest with her. But it wouldn't hurt to tell her what we've been telling everyone else.

"How would you know?" The twin on the right asked as she and her sister turned around now that Adrian wasn't here to support me.

"Because the same thing happened to Ron and Percy", I said more to Ginny than the Carrows. It was doubtful that they would even know who Ron and Percy are.

"I remember hearing about that", Ginny said as she rubbed her eyes with closed fists.

I nodded once. "And we think whoever it was tried to do it to Fred too".

"So, it's not just me", Ginny Summarized.

I nodded again. "But it is your family", said the twin on the left. "Those are your brothers' names, right?"

"Yes", Ginny said to answer her… Friend's question. "But why would someone want to go through our things?" Ginny pulled away from me fully; needing less attention now that her mind was asking questions.

"Someone went through your things?" A new voice asked. The Carrow twins rolled their eyes as Ginny and I looked over our shoulders to see a small blonde girl with silvery eyes. "Is anything missing? I can help you look". Luna said as she came to a stop behind us. "People hide my stuff all the time, so I'm good at finding things. I just follow the nargles".

The twin on the left scoffed. "If you're so good at finding things, you would have been sorted into Hufflepuff". I was confused. Why were they talking with Luna so casually? Like this wasn't their first encounter with her.

"Hufflepuffs are good finders?" Luna asked, but it sounded more like she was thinking out loud. "That makes sense. They do seem to attract a lot of nargles". Something is going on here that I don't know about. Gah! I hate being out of the loop.

"Nothing was missing, Luna", Ginny said. She was still sniffling, but it was becoming less and less frequent. "It just wasn't very nice". Ginny took a deep breath, gave herself a little shake, and turned to me. "I'm sorry, Holly", she said, apparently having collected herself. I was taken back. This was unlike the Ginny I shared a room with at home. That Ginny took hours to calm down once she was upset. That Ginny was terribly at self-soothing. But this Ginny was pulling herself together after just a couple of minutes. Just what was she learning in Slytherin house? "These are my friends", she said. I guess she was apologizing for not introducing us. "Flora." She gestured to the twin on the right. " and Hestia Carrow." She gestured to the twin on the left. "And Luna Lovegood". She was friends with Luna? How did that happen? When did that happen? Not that I'm complaining. I was worried that Luna and Ginny wouldn't hit it off with Ginny being in Slytherin. This was an absolute miracle. "This is my sister, Holly", Ginny finished the introductions.

"We met on the train", Luna said as she gave me a dreamy little smile, but offered no further explanation.

"You're the one that fourth-year, Stimpson, hates", Hestia stated as she studied me from head to toe. I rolled my eyes. If even first-years knew about Stimpson's opinions of me, she must still be licking her wounds. Ever since the train when I told Adrian that we were dating in front of Stimpson, I've been waiting for some sort of retaliation. But so far this year, she's been quiet. Maybe that should be a cause of concern… Oh, well. One problem at a time.

"And she's the Gryffindor that's dating the Pucey heir", Flora added. As if I didn't already know these facts.

"You know, he was just here", I said, referring to Adrian. "You can call him by his name". But they ignored me. Prats.

"There's even a rumor going around that he wants to formally court her," Hestia said to her sister.

The twin sisters looked me over once more, ignoring Ginny and Luna who seemed to be used to their behavior. How long have these four been hanging out? "I suppose that makes her socially acceptable", Flora said after a moment. "Ginevra, your sister can be seen with us if she would like to". I rolled my eyes as Ginny's face lit up. I am just so thrilled to have earned their eleven-year-old approval.

I look back at Luna. "Did you have to get their approval too?"

"Oh, yes", Luna answered serenely. "I think they were afraid that I was infested with wrackspurts. Very wise of them to make sure".


	46. Reflecting on a Reflection

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Reflecting on a Reflection

My expectations were too high. For weeks I was faced with an impatient eagerness that made me fidgety and alert. Nothing was happening! We were still waiting for Dobby to spring our trap. Hermione was still campaigning for house-elf equality. And Adrian still hadn't asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him. I tried to make eye contact with him as much as possible as if my pupils alone would be enough to clue him to the fact that I was waiting for an invitation. Whenever we were together, if he moved, even if it was just to ink his quill, I was aware of it and trying to see if this was the moment that he'd ask. I didn't get it. Why hadn't he asked me yet? In his culture, wasn't the wizard always asking the witch? Because I'm pretty sure that we had gotten into a fight about something similar last year.

The first Hogsmeade weekend was only a week away. Was he just assuming that because we were dating, he didn't have to ask me to stuff? For days I existed with these types of thoughts swimming around in my head. It made my mood take a turn for the worst. And I mean the type of mood that has me snapping at innocent people that can't help but be stupid. Poor Finnigan. I'm not sure he'll recover after the tongue lashing I had unleashed on the kid. Fred and George were maneuvering around me like I was a land mine about to explode. I rarely got into moods like this. And I could count on one hand the number of times I took out my harsh feelings on my fellow triplets. But they were boys. And all boys who have any sort of survival instinct know not to agitate a pissed off girl.

I wasn't able to break out of my foul mood until this morning. I was standing in front of a bathroom mirror as I brushed my teeth. There was just something off about my reflection. But I couldn't quite place my finger on it. I didn't currently have any pimples and there weren't any new freckles dotting my face. I kept staring at my reflection and didn't figure it out until there was a thin ring of toothpaste foam outlining my mouth. It wasn't a specific aspect of myself that I was unhappy about. It was me, my perspective, that was making me dislike myself. And wasn't that worth a second thought.

After spitting and rinsing, I stayed standing in front of the mirror; staring and contemplating. I've felt this way before. Not during the last fifteen years, but as Jessie. Jessie, the grown-ass woman who needed the affection of men to feel good about herself. The type of person that equated attractiveness with self-worth. Bloody hell, I thought as I embraced that realization. I had thought that part of my personality had died along with Jessie's body. That specific trait hadn't persisted during my second childhood. Though, I guess I didn't have the hormones for it to occur. This body was at the end of puberty. I suppose that meant that my personality was still finishing development as well. I sighed and bowed my head so I was no longer looking in the mirror. Jessie had been shallow. I can admit that now. It's easy to name faults when I am looking backward. But I thought Holly was better. I had hope that I had grown and learned from Jessie's mistakes. And they were big mistakes. Ones that played a part in my death. That much I am certain of, even if I can't remember the name and the face of the person who wielded the knife that made me bleed out.

And maybe I wasn't as bad as I was when I was Jessie. I cared less about the clothes on my body. Nor did I spend hours on an expensive beauty regimen that didn't make a difference. I didn't make plans and break them if I got a better offer down the road. And while I don't see myself as a charitable person, I do spend a lot of time worrying over my siblings. No, I wasn't shallow. At least not yet. But I might end up that way again if I didn't nip this negative feeling I was having in the bud. Why did it matter if Adrian asked me to Hogsmeade or not? And if he didn't, why did that mean I had to be in a bad mood? It definitely didn't mean that I could go and take my negativity out on others. I didn't bother looking in the mirror again as I raised my head. Instead, I turned on my heels and headed straight for the door, leaving my toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink ledge. I'll make sure to put them away properly tonight. Back in the fourth-year girls' dorm, I make a beeline for my bed. Vaguely, I notice that my two unimportant roommates had already left, and Angelina and Alicia are sitting on Alicia's bed. Angelina was helping Alicia tie a red and gold ribbon around her ponytail. "Thanks, Ange", Alicia said as she peered into a little hand mirror she had brought from home. "I don't know why, but I can't tie a ribbon without it coming out crooked".

"Happy to help", Angelina responded as I started throwing books and parchment into my bookbag. Hopefully, I would see Finnigan at breakfast. A not-shallow person would apologize for snapping at a kid because he said annoying things. Then, I'll go to potions class and solve my Adrian problem. No siree, I wasn't going to allow myself to wallow in my previous pitfalls. If Adrian not asking me to Hogsmeade was bugging me that much, then I'd just ask him myself. That was a much better option than acting like an irksome harpy. Besides, that day on the train I had told Adrian that I would be the one to call the shots in our relationship. It was time to live up to that intention. "Holly?" Angelina said as I swung my now packed bag onto my shoulder. "Aren't you going to brush your hair?"

I paused. Brush my hair? "Unless you want it to look like a lion's mane", Alicia piped up. Did I brush my hair this morning? I usually do that before brushing my teeth, but now I couldn't recall if I had done so this morning.

"Does it look that bad?" I asked; reaching up to run a hand over my hair. It felt a bit coarse, but I didn't feel any knots. Did a not-shallow person care if her hair was unbrushed?

Angelina nodded her answer, while Alicia handed me her hand-held mirror. Having had quite enough of mirrors this morning, I was tempted to not take it. But wanting to see what they were talking about, I gave in and accepted the looking glass. My eye's widened. How did I miss that? It was bushy. Not Hermione bushy, but clearly unattended to. With the shorter hairs shooting off in different directions. Some of them were even defying gravity. Forget shallow. Not even a slob would go out with their hair looking like this. At what must have been a slightly horrified expression, both Angelina and Alicia laughed. "Here", Alicia said as she reached out to reclaim her hand mirror. I return it before she continues. "I'll do your hair. On bad hair days, the best thing to do is plait it." She offered as Angelina stood from Alicia's bed.

"I still need to get dressed", said Angelina. "But after that, the three of us can go down to breakfast together. It's been a while since we've hung out".

I blushed, as I took Angelina's spot on Alicia's bed; letting my bag slide off my shoulder and land on the floor near my feet. Yes, it had been a while. It wasn't like I was trying to avoid them. I was just busy trying to destroy the diary and then there was Adrian… Crap, this was a bigger problem than I originally thought. "Yeah," I said once I found my voice. Alicia had already started to attack my scalp with her hairbrush, and Angelina was digging through her trunk. "That will be nice".

* * *

In line with the rules of female bonding, Angelina and I ended up wearing hair ribbons that matched Alicia's. Hair accessories aren't something I typically use. Hell, I don't really use any type of accessory at all. But it felt nice, like a pleasant reminder that I had friends. As we walked through the halls of Hogwarts, we giggled and caught up on gossip; feeling connected to each other by our color-coordinated ribbons that bounced with each step that we took. Alicia was still crazy for Diggory, while Angelina had moved her sights onto a certain red-haired brother of mine. Her honesty was making me rethink Fred's, George's, and Lee's year-long competition. Would Angelina be hurt when she found out? We also managed to talk about Lockhart's wavy blonde locks and his abysmal teaching skills before we made it to breakfast. Once there, I managed to apologize to Finnigan for my surly mood, eat an entire bowl of porridge with brown sugar, and join in on the laughter that is common for Gryffindor table. Fred and George may have taken big breaths of relief at my sudden turn in disposition. But I choose not to notice it too much. Jessie is dead, and I was going to keep it that way.

So, when it came time to head for the first class of the day, I politely excused myself from my brothers and friends and rushed ahead. Lee shouted mocking statements about hurrying to see my boyfriend. But this time, I didn't roll my eyes. Instead, I smiled to myself as I speed-walked to the dungeons. It was nice to have friends who cared, I reminded myself. Even if one of them is an absolute clown.

Being the early bird that he is, Adrian was already sitting at our lab table when I entered. He and Snape were the only two people in the room. I ignored the second and approached the first. "Good morning", Adrian greeted as I set my bookbag on the ground and slid into my seat. "Did you finish your essay-"

Adrian started to ask, except now wasn't a very good time be talking about homework. At least not when I was just starting on the path that would make me into a healthy well-rounded person. "The Hogsmeade weekend that's coming up", I cut Adrian off. He fell silent easily enough, but the spark of indignation in his eyes told me what he thought about being interrupted. Right, I'll note that fact for the future. "Do you want to go together?" I asked without any trepidation. We were dating, so it wasn't like I had to fear rejection.

Adrian was slow to respond. I didn't hold it against him. After all, I had asked him to change his line of thought without any warning. He turned towards me; confusion evident in his expression. "I thought we were already going together".

He did? "You did?" I asked, wrinkling my nose.

Adrian nodded, his eyes flashing in Snape's direction as if to make sure that the austere potions master wasn't listening in. Though, I'm not sure why Snape would. It wasn't like Adrian and me were students of any consequence. "Yes", He answered as his grey eyes connected with my brown ones. "We agreed to go together on your birthday. Remember?"

I did remember. We had talked about Hogsmeade right before Mum had brought out the cake. But I didn't realize that we wouldn't have to discuss it anymore after that. We didn't discuss a meet-up point or time or what we wanted to do. "So," I said slowly as I tried to figure out how to ask what I wanted to know without sounding neurotic. "It's a date?"

The skin around Adrian's eyes slackened as an indulgent half-smile graced his face. "It's a date", he confirmed before glancing up a bit. "Nice ribbon", he complimented.

Well, wasn't he being an excellent boyfriend this morning? Ignoring my interruption, soothing my need for planning, and paying me a compliment. I should reward that. I leaned forward and inch, a move that Adrian copied. Both of us were leaning so close that our noses were closer together than our feet. "Thanks", I replied in a quieter voice. "Though I'm surprised that you like the color". The hair ribbon Alicia had loaned me did, without a doubt, possess a very Gryffindor-ish vibe.

Adrian hummed as he moved just a tad closer. "You turn red into a much more appealing color". Hot damn, my boy had game. It seemed he did pick up a thing or two from Regulus' brother.

"Yeah?" I asked as I got ready to press my lips against him. Finally! Our first kiss.

"Yeah", Adrian answered, closing the rest of the distance.

Our noses touched. My heart-rate sped up as adrenaline started to surge. But before either of us had tilted our heads, before our lips touched, and before I could start seeing fireworks; a loud thumping sound that bounced off the stone walls and shook our whole table broke us apart. What the hell? I thought as I tried to piece together what just happened. "There will be no teenage drivel in my class", spoke a dark voice filled with weight and finality. My heart skipped a beat as Adrian and I both turned forward in our seats, only to see the form of the bleak head of Slytherin house looming over us with his hands on his hip and elbows akimbo. In the middle of our table was a thick dusty leather book titled, _Harvesting Organs for potent Potions,_ which hadn't been there before. That must be what made that loud sound. Snape must have dropped the book on our lab table to get us to separate. Snape glowered down at us; upper lip curled back into a snarl. "Or I'll have to find the both of you, new lab partners". Snape took his time glaring at both of us in turn. All Adrian and I could do was wiggle under the intensity of Snape's disapproval. Or rather, I wiggled and Adrian found his composure. He had probably been taught that wiggling wasn't a dignified thing to do. Snape was still glaring at us as more students started entering the classroom. But as the volume started to rise with the increase of chatter, Snape finally looked away. He picked up his book on organ harvesting and turned back to his desk. I breathed a sigh of relief. That had been worse than the time Ginny had interrupted Adrian and me. With Ginny, it had been embarrassing. But this time, Snape's reaction had me feeling like what Adrian and I were about to do was inappropriate. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley", Snape called over his shoulder. Bloody hell. Alicia and Angelina would never let me live this down once they found out why we lost points.

* * *

Today had been a very good day despite losing house points. I was all caught up on my sleep. I got some quality girl time. I almost kissed Adrian, and I spotted Ginny getting some quality girl time with her own friends during dinner. Judging by her laughing and engaged state, I'm assuming she's recovered from her trunk being invaded. It was such a good day, that I was kind of surprised. It was a pleasant surprise. But still, usually, there's always so sort of hiccup for me to deal with. However, that night I went to bed feeling confident and carefree. It's best to not look a gift unicorn in the mouth. Especially since I had dodged a bludger this morning by realizing how poorly I had been handling my new relationship status. And by that, I mean how I've been letting my romantic relationship impact my other relationships. I closed my eyes and fell asleep feeling confident that I had made some good choices today and without any fear of what lies ahead. I had things handled.

Blood. Blood everywhere. It was becoming painful to draw breath as the scarlet stains continued to grow on my blue blouse. Phone, I thought as even my thinking was getting affected by the blood loss. Thoughts were coming in slower and slower. Phone…. Where is my Phone? I could no longer feel my lower extremities, and my attacker was nowhere in sight. Did he leave? Maybe… still time…. get Help. I weakly searched for my phone by combing my hand over the dirt floor I was sprawled out on. I think it should be in my purse. And my purse is… I can't remember.

My eyes became heavy as I started to hear someone shouting. I guess my attacker is still here "Who are you?" But that doesn't make sense. He stabbed me. He knows who I am.

"Stupefy", A different voice shouted. No, there's more than one. I should… I should… ask for help. I thought as the sound of something loud large hitting the ground reached my ears. It still didn't make sense. Wasn't stupefy a spell from Harry Potter? Why would… Why would someone just shout that out when coming across an attempted murder? A middle-aged woman with red hair that was starting to gray came into my line of vision. Her eyes were rimmed in red as a few tears streaked down her sun spotted faced. She… she really needed highlights and mascara. She took my limp hand into her own as the shouting continued. "We won't let you get away from this", said the same voice that had shouted stupefy. So… there are three people?

"It's going to be okay". The red-haired woman said as she squeezed my hand. Except, I could barely feel it. No. This couldn't be it. I couldn't be dying. I was too young. "When you wake up, your life will be better", she continued. Is that….. an English accent? I asked myself, as my eyes became to weighted to keep open. I liked my life as it was. What I really wanted to know was why she wasn't calling the cops or applying pressure to my wounds. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when a person is losing too much blood? "I promise. You'll have a whole new family." Do I…. know this person? "A Mum and Dad that love each other. Brothers and a sister that will care about you." Brothers? A sister? Was this person crazy? I had one brother. One I haven't talked to in two years, with exception of a couple of text messages on birthdays and holidays. Believe me, I couldn't handle more than one brother. "You'll see and learn many things that you didn't think possible", The woman kept on talking. More tears were falling out of her eyes as the corners of my vision began to dim. "And", the woman paused to choke back a sob. Why was she crying? "And you'll meet the love of your life". I guess seeing someone dying would be upsetting, but we're strangers. It's not like she has anything personally invested in me. The woman kept on talking, even after her words started to get jumbled together in my ears and everything was fading out of existence. I thought one last thing as darkness consumed me; who was that?


	47. Elf Trap

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Elf Trap

For the first time since… my death, I didn't wake up from a nightmare in physiological stress. I still ended up being abruptly conscious. But more due to a feeling of, 'that was weird', rather than, 'holy shit, I'm dead'. When my eyes flew open, I immediately knew I was looking at the ceiling of my dormitory. My heart wasn't racing. My body wasn't trembling, and my skin didn't feel clammy. Not once did I feel the need to touch my torso for stab wounds. Nor did I need to remind myself of which body I was currently in.

Instead, I continued to lay in the dark; blinking up at a shadowed ceiling. I was experiencing the frustrating phenomena of having a million different questions, but not knowing how to ask a single one. That nightmare felt like a memory. Just like all the others. But, at the same time, it felt like it had just happened for the first time. I didn't know any gingers in that life. I'm sure of it. And the only middle-aged people I associated with were Jessie's mom and Jessie's employer. I exhaled loudly through my nose, before climbing out of bed. I never liked solving puzzles in both of my lives. I never saw the point of them. Why dig for a solution when someone else already knew the answer? And yet, my whole world seemed to have morphed into an unsolved puzzle.

Even though I wasn't scared, I started the familiar trek to Fred and George. With new information swimming around in my head, I knew I wouldn't be sleeping again tonight. So, I should at least feel comfortable by being close to two people who wouldn't force me to solve this puzzle alone. Except I didn't make it very far. Stepping off the last step of the girls' staircase, my body froze as my attention snapped to the sounds of hushed whispering and a rattling sound. Coming from the boys' staircase, George stepped into the common room, he had both of his hands behind him as he held one handle of a trunk. Three guesses on who the trunk belongs to. Walking further into the common room revealed Fred coming up behind George holding up the other end of the trunk. It was shaking and jumping and rattling like a cat wrapped inside a Christmas present. So, I guess that means whatever Fred and George did to make house-elf apparition unusable worked… Or, Dobby wasn't thinking about magical means of escape. Who knows? "What do we do now?" George whispered to Fred.

"Let me think", Fred responded. And yeah, we hadn't really thought through what we would do once Dobby was ensnared in our trap. I'm not sure we fully believed that our trap would actually work.

Stepping away from the girls' staircase, I asked in a whispered voice, "We got him?"

Fred and George jumped, jolting the trunk they were holding between them. Poor Dobby. "Merin, Holls", Fred complained as he adjusted his grip on the trunk handle.

"What are you doing up?" George asked at the same time.

"Nightmare", I answered. At that moment, it occurred to me that the weird nightmare with the unidentified redhead was the most convenient nightmare I've ever had. Considering that it woke me up on the night that something interesting was happening. Now that we're faced with the situation, I wondered how Fred and George would have contacted me about our trap being sprung if I hadn't wandered into the common room. It's not like they could have gone up the girls' staircase.

"That's convenient", Fred commented; following my thoughts exactly.

"So, what should we do?" George asked again.

"I could get the marauders' map", Fred said with a one-shoulder shrug. "We could see if we could find an empty classroom".

I wrinkled my nose. That sounded like a lot of extra steps. If he had to go upstairs to get the map, then we ran the risk of one of their roommates waking up. Assuming they hadn't woken up when Fred and George lugged Fred's trunk out of the dorm. Then, even with the map, we could be caught out after curfew if we left the common room. And wouldn't it be fun to explain why we had a house-elf in a school trunk? "Let's just use the common room", I said. That wasn't the best plan either. We'd have to worry about someone waking up and coming downstairs. But it would be easier to explain away our odd behavior than if we left. Why were you talking to a house-elf? He was cleaning the common room like house-elves always do. We saw him and had questions. Why are you awake at this late hour? Holly has nightmares. Why is there a school trunk down here? … We wanted to ask if the house-elf could clean it. I moved over to the favored spot in front of the fireplace. At this late hour, the flames were reduced to embers. In any other situation, the ambiance of the soft glow would have been pleasant. But now it was adding to the intensity of what we trying to accomplish.

Fred and George followed; placing the trunk in front of the fireplace. Now on the ground, the trunk rocked left and right as Dobby thrashed around inside of it. With the sofa and two chairs set up around the fireplace and us sitting in the middle, we didn't have a lot of room. But it also gave us some sense of privacy, no matter how pretend that privacy was. "So", Fred said slowly. "I guess we just open it?" He formed a statement but it came out sounding like a question. Knowing that George and I didn't have a clue either, Fred reached for the latch.

"Wait", George spoke up just as Fred's fingertips made contact. Fred had no problem pausing. Any sort of advice or further thought was welcomed. "How do we know he would disparate as soon as we let him out?"

That was a really good question. Fred turned his head in my direction to see if I knew the answer. Which I didn't. Knowing that I should contribute something, I swallowed my apprehensive nerves and raised a fist over the lid of the trunk. I knock twice, and the trunk stopped rocking from side to side. In the back of my head, I hoped what I just did wasn't the equivalent of tapping of a fishbowl. We need Dobby to like us. Or all of this was for nothing. "We're not going to hurt you", I said as I leaned closer in with my face close to the trunk's lid. "And we won't turn you in either for going through our things". I felt it was important to make that clear. "Knock if you understand me". A tense moment passed with Fred, George, and I just staring at each other. It was probably only five seconds, but it felt much longer when got the response we were looking for. "We want to let you out and talk to you". I said, trying to think of a reason that would make Dobby stay and hear us out.

"We know about the diary, and we want to destroy it", Fred stepped up. "But we could use your help".

I nodded my approval. That was good. That should spike Dobby's interest. "Knock if you promise to stay". Of course, I had no idea what we would do if Dobby didn't knock or knocked and then disparate immediately after we let him go. I guess… we'd just have to catch him all over again. This time it felt like Dobby's response happened faster than the first. I sat back as Fred reached for the latch again. George glanced over his shoulders as if he was checking for other students that were out of bed. Though his attention quickly reverted to the trunk as Fred undid the latch. We hadn't used magic to lock the trunk. Though we had used a little magic to make sure the latch would fully engage once Dobby was inside of the trunk. One summer, prior to us starting Hogwarts, Fred and George put Ron in Bill's trunk and shut the lid. So, we knew from personal experience that once a trunk was closed, it couldn't be opened from the inside. Fred opened the lid a crack and that was all it took. Dobby sprang to his feet; forcing the trunk lid out of Fred's hand. Thankfully, the hinges prevented the lid from completely opening like an open book laid flat on a table. Without the hinges, the lid would have connected with the stones of the fireplace. Only Merlin knows how much noise that would have made. Dobby stood before us in the trunk. His bat-like ears were perked forward in our direction and his hands were nervously twisting the worn fabric of his pillowcase.

"Right, err" George started after the excitement of opening the trunk past. "umm. I'm George. This is my brother Fred and my sister, Holly".

"Yous is the family Dobby's master dislikes". Dobby spoke within honesty, but it was an honesty that leads to him whimpering. He stopped clinging to his pillowcase in favor of twisting his ears; probably thinking he had just violated the privacy of his master.

"It's okay. It's okay", I said quickly; not wanting to watch someone hurt themselves. "We know that the Malfoys don't like us. Everyone knows".

Watery-eyed, Dobby didn't let go of his ears, but he did stop abusing them. "How do you know Dobby serves the Malfoys?"

Thinking fast, Fred answered, "Because of the diary. We know it came from Malfoy. And we know you're looking for it. We put two and two together". Obviously, we couldn't tell Dobby the truth. I don't think there's a need to tell anyone other than Fred and George about my strange circumstances. I didn't need to become a magical experiment for wizardkind to poke and prod at. Also, since Dobby was still enslaved, we needed to be selective even with the information we could tell him. It wouldn't be a very good strategy on our parts if we gave him vital knowledge and he was somehow ordered to tell the Malfoys everything.

"The diary is bad. Very bad. If it stays here terrible things will happen at Hogwarts", Dobby said. As if just remembering the diary, he turned and squatted down in Fred's trunk. He started to make grunting noises as he tried to pry the sticky-charmed diary from the floor of the trunk. I'm not sure why he didn't just use magic to unstick the diary. But I decided to not question it. I kind of already have a lot on my plate.

"You can't take the diary", I said. "No matter where you hide it there's always going to be a chance that someone will find it and use it to hurt people. The only way to stop that from happening is to destroy it". Dobby's head popped back up, staring at us from over the rim of the trunk.

"That's what we want to do", Fred repeated. "We want to destroy the diary. But we don't know how. We thought maybe a house-elf was strong enough to destroy it".

"And since you already know about the diary…" George trailed off, letting Dobby fill in the blanks.

It didn't take him long to figure out what we were saying. "Yous want Dobby's help". His voice came out in a high-pitched squeak and made me flinch back. High pitched sounds and the middle of the night is not a match made in heaven.

Briefly, Dobby's eyes sparked in interest, but they quickly adopted shadows. He looked away from use in favor of staring down at the trunk's bottom. Yes, I imagine it's hard to see challenges as possible when you're not allowed to be your own person. "And we thought-", I was quick to add. "That we could figure out a way to free you. That way you'll never be forced to tell the Malfoys that you helped us".

Light bloomed in Dobby's eyes again as he raised his head to look at us. It was a good thing we were talking to Dobby. If it was any other house-elf they'd have an existential crisis at just the chance to imagine what freedom would feel like. "Free Dobby?" He asked, hope leaking through his squeaky voice.

Fred, George, and I wasted no time in nodding to give Dobby confirmation. Though with the three of us all nodding at once, we probably looked like a row of bobbleheads on a dashboard. "We know a Malfoy has to give you clothes", George said.

"There's a Malfoy at Hogwarts", I added.

"It's just a matter of making it happen", Fred finished. Honestly, given the opportunity, we'd probably just stage something similar to how Dobby got freed in the series. I mean, Malfoy Jr. is only a second-year and too arrogant to be cautious. It'd probably be easier than tricking Malfoy Sr. into freeing Dobby.

"So, will you help us?" I asked. Because all of this would be for nothing if Dobby disagreed.

Dobby chewed on his bottom lip. His ears drooped as he thought turned our words over in his mind. All my brothers and I could do were shift uncomfortably and wait. It didn't take long for Dobby to come to a decision. He bowed hard enough that his ears flopped. But when he looked up his ears were no longer drooping. "Dobby will help".

From there, we had many things to plan out; when to meet, where to meet, and did we want to free Dobby or destroy the diary first. The biggest issue was planning when we could meet because it wasn't like Dobby had an open calendar. If still had to do all his regular work at the Malfoy's manor. And if they called him, he'd have to apparate to their sides without any warning. Really, this would be easier if Dobby was already free. So, that was a point in favor of setting Dobby free before focusing on the diary. But we feared our continued possession of the diary, so we decided to work on both at the same time. What can I say? We're impatient. With more talking, we agreed that the safest time to meet was after hours, even though it meant that us triplets would have to brave the corridors. Because there was no way we could get away with destroying the diary in the common room. We choose to meet on Wednesday night. If Dobby could make it, he would. And if he didn't, we'd just meet at the same time next week. I also decided that this was a good time to utilize my knowledge of the room of requirement. We didn't know how much noise we'd have to make to actually destroy a Horcrux and didn't want to risk being found if we used an empty classroom. Besides, the diadem was destroyed in the room of requirement in the series, so it was probably the safest place in the castle to contain the destruction of dark magic. Now that I think about it, if we were successful then we could probably take the diadem out of the picture this year as well. Before disapparating, Dobby finished our conversation by promising to never go through another Weasley trunk again and saying, "Dobby is happy to have Weasley friends".

And didn't that just make us feel all warm and fuzzy inside? We sat in silence for a few seconds after Dobby left; basking in our initial success. It didn't happen very often. With all of Fred and George's creations, we were more accustomed to first attempts blowing up in our faces. "That went well", George said as he stood up; breaking Fred and me out of our thoughts. "How do you want to get your trunk back upstairs?" George asked Fred as Fred started to unfold his legs.

Fred shrugged as he raised his body into a standing position. "Leave it", he answered. "We'll unstick the diary and secure it into your trunk for the night. I think if we tried to bring back to our dorm now our roommates will stage a protest". I guess that means, someone did wake up when the heading for the common room. And I don't think it was Lee.

George didn't take much convincing. He leaned over Fred's trunk with his wand to get the diary while Fred offered me a hand up. "I guess we have more sleepless nights ahead of us", I said after taking my brother's hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet.

Fred grunted in agreement as George stood up straight with the diary now in hand. We should probably put the Magical Me cover back on it, I thought. We had taken it off to make it more obvious for Dobby. But now that he was on board, we'd need to take every precaution again. "Do you want to stay with us?" George asked me, referring to the nightmare I had mentioned earlier.

Did I want to spend the rest of the night with Fred and George? That nightmare hadn't been terribly scary. At least, not when compared to the nightmare I usually have. And whatever unnerving feelings I had felt from it was near forgotten after successfully recruiting Dobby. "No, I'll be alright", I answered. "I don't want your roommates to protest". And I wasn't talking about Lee.

"You sure?" Fred doubled checked. I understood why. This would be the first time that I didn't end up in one of their beds after a nightmare. I was feeling a bit unsure about my decision, but there wasn't any need. I knew I was Holly Weasley, and I knew that wasn't going to get stabbed in this life. Hopefully.


	48. The Return of Stimpson

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Return of Stimpson

How this current situation came about; I haven't the foggiest. But now that it was happening, I couldn't begrudge the opportunity. That is until one of my red-colored gobstones got knocked out of the ring and I was drenched in putrid green gunk by Flora's green gobstone. "You really are quite horrible at this", Hestia commented smugly as she bent over her legs to take her turn with her silvered-colored gobstones.

I shot her a look as I took the time to wipe some of the foul-smelling substance off my left cheek. "Yes, well", I said, neither refuting nor agreeing with her observation. "Gobstones have never been my first choice of games". Honestly, I was surprised that the Carrow Sisters were so fond of it. For two pureblood girls that were supposed to represent all the refined and cherished points of their ancient culture, I found it baffling that they had no problem sitting around a circle drawn in dirt and risk getting smelly liquids squirted at them.

"That's not surprising", Flora said as she smiled gleefully when her sister failed to knock one of her marbles out. "A lot of people don't have the stomach for Gobstones". I don't think she intended it to sound like a judgment, but it sure came out like one. "It's your turn, Ginevra". Ginny wasn't fairing any better than I was. Her robes being just as stained as mine. But she didn't complain as picked which gobstone she'd target in a random fashion, clearly not planning on winning. "Our mother hated this game too. She claimed that it left our house smelling rancid and made the servants uppity. She banned us from playing indoors".

Ginny's gobstone didn't make contact with anything and puttered out near the center. Meaning that it was my turn once again. How grand. How did I get talked into participating? I could have been exploring the possibilities of the room of requirement with Fred and George. I could have been playing chess with Ron as we tuned out Hermione's House-elf equality speech. I could have tracked down Adrian and enjoyed an afternoon in his company. But instead, the three first-year Slytherins had found me and asked me to play with them since Snape had given Luna detention for inventing potion ingredients. I should have told them no. I would have told them no if I had known this is what we would be doing. But I was curious to see how Ginny interacted with her Slytherin friends when she wasn't crying over the contents of her trunk.

Neither of the Carrow sisters commented on Ginny's waste of a turn. Instead, they both looked at me expectantly. Rolling my eyes, I slumped my back in preparation to aim. I should go after one of Ginny's gobstones since she had one close to the edge of the circle. But I really wanted to get one of the Carrow twins to be hit with foul-smelling slime. "But our Father loves gobstones", Hestia said as I went after one of Flora's. "He taught us how to play". The mental image of their father, a death eater, sitting on the floor with two little girls, and teaching them how to play a rather undignified game caused my thumb to slip. My gobstone went way off course and hit nothing. At least it didn't go out of the circle. The thought didn't sit right with me. Especially because I imagined Flora's and Hestia's father to be wearing full-on death eater regalia while he played. Though, I supposed that was evidence of narrowed thinking. Death eater wasn't a synonym for bad father.

Flora lined up her shot. The tip of her tongue sticks out of her lips as she concentrates. A sort of precognition told me she'd be successful, so I leaned back and covered my eyes with the sleeve of my robe. It was a wise preparation on my part because only seconds later the sleeve blocking my face gets coated with something sticky that smells of rotten eggs. "I'm not even sure why you're still playing", Flora gloated ins a smug voice. Over-competitive, out for blood, ambitious Slytherins. I grumbled in my head as I attempted to shake my sleeve out. I only had two marbles left in the circle. Clearly, I was being targeted. But at this point, I didn't care. I wanted nothing more than to go back to Gryffindor tower, climb into a shower, and not leave for the next hour. I wonder if Angelina would mind if I stole some of her mango scented shampoo. I don't think she would; considering that the alternative was me smelling like a swamp monster until the gobstone stench wore off.

Before I could offer any retort to the first-years that were just a little too pleased with themselves, a shadow loomed over our circle. "Engaging in nursery games, Weasley?" I cringed the moment I recognized her voice. Every since the train, she'd had been relatively quiet in my life. Though I should have known that she wouldn't remain silent forever. Wishful thinking never really seems to work out for me. "You're such a lickspittle", Stimpson accused as I tilted my head back to look at her. I didn't bother to turn around. Why waste energy on the likes of her? Though I am curious. What's a lickspittle? Almost sounds like it could have been a character from _The Beetle and the Bard._ Though judging by the indignant scoffing sounds Flora and Hestia were making, I'm assuming it's nothing flattering. Or maybe, they're just angry that Stimpson is calling their favorite game infantile. "Adrian isn't good enough for you now. You have to brown-nosy up to first-years from a respectable family, like the Carrows, to raise your pathetic family out of the mud".

Pursing my lips, I take in Stimpson's scrunched up nose of disgust. Her face was also less spotty than it had been previously. Was that the cause of this sudden bout of confidence? I take my time to come up with a response. I wasn't worried about any repercussions. The worst she'd do was cast aguamenti on me again. And based on the state of my robes, I wouldn't mind it too terrible. Besides, no matter how she responded; she'd just be rubbing salt onto her wounded pride. Nothing she could say would change the fact that I had already won. "Stimpson, I don't have a clue what you're talking about", I said in my best attempt at speaking coolly. I was trying to channel my inner Adrian. But I doubt I've mastered that yet. "I don't think it's odd for me to take an interest in my little sister's friends". I paused to look in Ginny's direction; who had remained quiet throughout this whole thing. She wasn't looking at anyone. Choosing to keep her eyes locked on the gobstones. Like she didn't know how to navigate this situation. I suppose it was conflicting. Does she side with her sister or a senior member of her house? Both options could cause a backlash. I look back at Stimpson. "And as far as Adrian goes, I'll ask you to stop talking like my boyfriend is some passing fling. His tongue is so talented, that I doubt another wizard will ever be able to satisfy me". Of course, that wasn't true. Adrian and I hadn't even kissed yet, so I didn't know if he had a talented tongue or not. But I knew saying that would get under Stimpson's skin. And Stimpson didn't disappoint. Her hair bristled and she clenched her hands into fists as her face turned red.

"And Gobstones", Hestia started to say. I gladly turned my attention to the first years. Ginny had started to blush a pink hue, while Flora started at me with mild revulsion. I'll probably have to do some damage control with them and explain that Adrian and I weren't actually doing anything worthy of those looks. Meanwhile, Hestia was doing her best to keep a straight face as she said her piece. "isn't a baby game. Ginevra and Weasley are helping us practice for the inter-house gobstone tournament. My sister and I are going to win it for Slytherin house this year", she spoke with unfiltered confidence.

"There's a school-wide competition for gobstones?" I asked, happy to ignore the other fourth-year.

Both Hestia and Flora nodded.

"Annually?"

They nodded again. I shrugged a little; that's the first I've ever heard of this. Somehow, I doubted this was a competition Gryffindor competed in.

Having come to the conclusion, that she wasn't going to get to me today, Stimpson turned her attention to her fellow Slytherins. "And what would your father say if he knew that you two were associating with a blood traitor? Our Weasley is understandable". _Our_ Weasley? I knew she was referring to Ginny, but I really disliked that title. Ginny may wear a green and silver tie, but that didn't make her _their_ anything. "But any other person with red-hair", Stimpson sneered. "isn't suitable company. Not with their… questionable morals".

I choked on a laugh. That was the best thing Stimpson had said all day. "What's your problem with red-hair?" I asked as I looked up at the irate girl with a smile. "I seem to recall a time last year when you dyed your hair red".

Stimpson ignored me in favor of addressing my little sister. "And you Weasley, if you want to be one of us-"

That's as far as I let her go. It's one thing when the two of us are going at each other. We were the same age (physically speaking) and had an ongoing feud between us. But Ginny wasn't a willing participant in any of this. "Considering that my sister has seven older siblings that love her very much, Adrian, who's acting as her mentor, and Hestia and Flora as friends; she doesn't need to belong to any group that you're a part of".

Stimpson locked eyes with me and we glared at each other. A solid minute past of just us trying to kill each other with our eyes. It had turned into a game of who would break first, and I was determined to win. "Actually", Flora spoke up before our staring contest could come to completion. "Father would be more displeased if we disrespected Uncle Marcellus' choice". Say what now? Uncle Marcellus? His choice? "And Cousin Adrian said Ginevra is already one of us. The sorting hat doesn't make mistakes". While I was pleasantly surprised by Flora's sentiments concerning Ginny, I now had a bundle of new questions. It seems that that Cousin Adrian and I needed to have a Q&A.

Stimpson seemed to be having similar thoughts. "Cousin Adrian?" She asked, her voice coming out a bit shrill. It must be embarrassing for her; having just scolded her crushes younger relatives.

"You didn't know?" Hestia asked. "I thought everyone in Slytherin house knew each other's family ties". I thought about that for a few seconds. I suppose that does make sense. All purebloods are related somewhere down the line and when you're only interested in associating with other purebloods you don't want to end up dating someone too closely related. "Cousin Adrian's mother is our aunt. Though she's much older than Father. Our grandparents started early and finished late. That's what father says at any rate".

With all this new information flying around, even Ginny had picked up her head as she took all of this in; staring at her friends with interest. Maybe she was drawing the same idea I was. That her befriending the Carrow twins wasn't a bout of good luck. That is was something crafted by a wizard with an agenda. Merlin, I was falling more and more for that boy each day. "We spend every holiday, except for Samhain, with the Puceys", Flora said as she looked at Stimpson. Her eyes were gleaming with the knowledge that Stimpson didn't have. "Auntie Florentina is always teasing Cousin Adrian about Weasley. Ever since he came home for Yule during his first year. Your name has never come up once". She spoke her words with a bit of bite.

Stimpson opened her mouth as if she had a retort, but instead turned on her heel and stomped off like an angry horklump. I never thought I'd feel this way, but damn, I like these Carrow sisters. "Won't we get into trouble?" Ginny asked quietly; pulling our attention to her. She wasn't looking at me, just her peers. "for speaking against an upperclassman?"

"You would", Flora answered. "If you had said anything". I think she meant to soothe Ginny's anxiety but she said it so bluntly that it had the opposite effect.

"But we're Carrows. We have more pull than the Stimpsons. So, she can't do anything to use", Hestia continued before returning to our gobstone circle. "Who's turn is it?"

But I could just return to getting pelted with revolting liquids; not when I had just been gifted some many little gems of knowledge. "So, you're related to Adrian?"

Hestia and Flora nodded to confirm.

"Got any embarrassing stories about him from childhood?" Heh heh, Adrian was going to kill me.

* * *

"Jolly Holly, you've been holding out on us", Fred said as he slung an arm over my shoulders. I rolled my eyes as we stood in the middle of a room that was equipped to meet Fred and George's needs. Which apparently meant a room with a lot of whimsical colors, bottles containing suspicious potion ingredients, cauldrons, and a lot of burn ointment. I hadn't told them about the room requirement before this, because it hadn't been at the forefront of my mind with everything else we'd have to overcome. Dumbledore's army wasn't nearly as important as mentioning the department of mysteries the first time I had given them the full order of events. But now that we were here, in this unplottable room, I had the sense that it had been a lucky unintentional omission. Already, I could see numerous half-started inventions scattered across the room. They had three cauldrons bubbling at once with different colored steam emitting from each of them. Bolts of fabric were leaning against the walls. Some of which have already been cut into. Seems that my brothers were making again. And… was that a bubble machine in the corner?

George appeared on my other side. Copying Fred, he slings an arm over my shoulders, effectively caging me in between the two of them. "We had some many new ideas in just one afternoon", he said, voice energized.

"Anti-gravity hats", Fred started to list off.

"Boxing telescope", George continued.

"Canary Cream"

"Screaming yo-yos".

"Holly", George suddenly declared. He retracted his arm and pulled me out from under Fred's so he could place both of his hands on my shoulders. "We're going to make fireworks", he said, emphasizing his words by giving me a shake. "Imagine igniting fireworks to get out of class". Oh, I was imagining it alright. Specifically, the fireworks that would terrorize Umbridge three years from now.

Not one to be outshone, Fred popped up next to George, holding a plate out in front of him. "Canary cream?" He offered to me what looks to be ordinary custard creams. "We need someone to be our tester". And didn't I just feel honored that I was the first person they asked.

Shrugging off George's hands and take a safe step away from Fred's baked goods, I asked, "The room of requirement provided you with all this?" I waved my hands at all the materials they had been inventing with.

"Just about", Fred answered happily. "And we didn't have to pay for, harvest, or recycle any of it. We'd never have been able to afford all this on our own".

"With this room, maybe we really can open our own joke shop one day", George said as he looked around the room in awe. Didn't I tell them about Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? I thought back to the times where was talked about the Harry Potter series based on Jessie's memories. And I couldn't recall if I had told them about their future career. Maybe I should tell them…

"Have you've tried asking for basilisk venom?" I asked my fellow triplets. If this room was all-powerful. I was about to feel really stupid for not utilizing it sooner.

"No", George answered as Fred shook his head. "We tried that when we realized it would supply us with what we needed for our jokes".

"But it can't conjure up everything", Fred continued. "it didn't supply us with any of the mundane ingredients we needed for the canary creams". He said, gesturing with his head in direction of the plate he was still holding. "We hand to nick those from the kitchens".

"Which makes sense", George explained. "Considering Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration".

I sighed and ran a hand through my freshly washed hair. After playing gobstones, I had taken a shower and changed before meeting up with Fred and George. "So, Basilisk venom falls under one of the exceptions", I reasoned. That was inconvenient.

"Maybe", Fred said with a shrug. "But it could be something else too. We tried to change our need to destroying Horcruxes to see what the room would do-"

"But all we got was an empty room", George finished.

It was disappointing, but not too surprising. I walked over to one of their bubbling cauldrons and leaned over it to get a good look. This one was red and smelled faintly of iron. I think that the purpose of the room of requirement, like Hogwarts' magic in general, is to protect students. It's why it became a safe haven for the prosecuted students during the deathly hallows. Maybe that's why it wouldn't give us the means to destroy Horcruxes. Because the outside threats currently weren't perilous enough to out-weigh the danger of what we were trying to do. Or maybe it was because Harry was both a Horcrux and a student and the school has much of a responsibility to him as everyone else… They were week theories. George was probably right; about Gamp's law. Though I suppose it is food for thought. We'd just have to hope that Dobby was successful. I look up from their cauldron and over to Fred and George. "So, is there a job for me at your guys' joke shop?" I asked as their faces slowly started to transform into expressions of grotesque intrigue. "What?" I asked after a moment.

George laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. "Well, you see Holls-"

"That potion you were looking at-" Continued a pale looking Fred.

"Is a nosebleed potion". George finished.

Nosebleed? I think as I raised a hand to touch right under my touch. Pulling my hand away revealed a ruby red stain. Why didn't I feel any of this? "I didn't consume any of it though", I complained as I put my hand back under my nose to try to control the flow of blood. I know some potions can be applied topically, but it hadn't even touched my skin. Only the steam had.

"I guess me made it a little too potent", Fred said. "Maybe if we cut the amount of foxglove by half", he trailed off in thought.

George nodded along with Fred's thoughts. "I don't think we want it to produce that much blood".

My head started to feel airy as blood started to drip off by hand and onto the floor with a thin splat sound. "So, where's the antidote?" I asked with my voice sounding muffled since my hand was in the way. Fred and George pressed their lips together as they turned their heads to look at each other. "How are you going to stop the bleeding?" I rephrased my question, their lack of response putting me on edge.

"We haven't… discovered one yet" George admitted.

Of course, they don't have an antidote yet. "I think I need to sit down", I said as my knees started to bend.

"Hey, Holls", Fred said as he stepped towards, shoving the plate of canary creams at George as he did so. "How about you try to stay awake, while George and I take you to the hospital wing", he said as he grabbed my upper arms to keep me standing. He said hospital wing like we going to the county fair.

"I bet Madam Pomfrey will be thrilled to see us", George said as he put the plate on the ground and started to help Fred to get me moving. "We haven't seen her since last year. She's probably missing us". George tried to keep the mood light as he and Fred ushered me away; leaving a pitter-patter trail of blood behind us. Damn it. I'm going to need another shower after this.


	49. The Magic Word

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Magic Word

Snape scowled as he loomed over Lee's and Alicia's Cauldron. "Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Jordan. That is not how we address faculty members at Hogwarts".

Behind Lee and Alicia sat Fred and George. They had their heads bent over their cauldrons to hide their snickering faces from Snape. Not that they were fooling anyone. The class hadn't started yet, and as such their cauldrons were not lit. And there was nothing brewing inside of them, so they really had no reason to be sticking their heads so close to it. "I apologize sir", Lee said in a voice that suggested the contrary. "I will not address you as schoolteacher Snape again."

Snape, with his abnormally large nose, can always be trusted to sniff out when there was more tomfoolery underfoot. Twisted around in my seat at the front of the room, I could tell because Snape's usual dour look had adopted an air of conflict. Like he knew Lee hadn't just used the word schoolteacher for no reason but had not yet decided if poking the bear further would be worth the headache it would undoubtedly cause him. This morning, the boys had told me that they were ready for the third game of their year-long competition. So, in secret, I gave each boy a word that they weren't allowed to say. If any of them said their word, they lost. Lee's word is 'professor'. And judging on Fred and George's body language, they had figured out Lee's magic word. Snape turned on his heel and walked back to the front of the classroom, leaving me to assume that he had reached the conclusion that it was too early for this nonsense. Wise man. Following Snape's example, I turned back around before he could find something offensive about looking over your shoulder in a classroom. Today is going to be a good day. Well… a good day as long as you're not Snape. With this new game underway, we had decided to arrive early at the potions lab. Which we never do. I think Snape was genuinely shocked to see the Gryffindor half of his class earlier than a minute before class started. We were so early that Adrian the early-bird wasn't even here yet. We probably ruined Snape's morning by breaking our normal routine.

"Hey Lee", I heard Fred say as I started to take out some parchment for notes. "Can you call professor Snape back over here?" Fred asked with a heavy emphasis on the word professor.

"Yeah", George continued. "We need to ask Professor Snape about ingredients that are used in potions that stop people from bleeding", George used a voice similar to Fred's.

"No, I will not call grand potion's master Snape, back over here". Lee answered, As Adrian suddenly appeared, slipping into his seat next to me.

"Hey", I said, as I turned to smile at my boyfriend. "Do you want to get some petty revenge on my brothers for all the pranks they pulled on you last year? Because, today-" I cut myself out as soon as I read his facial expression. His eyebrows were slanted, highlighting his grey eyes there were unusually stormy. His lips were pressed together to form a very thin line, and his nostrils flared on every exhale. "What's wrong?" I asked, feeling like I was about to take an unexpected journey.

Adrian loudly exhaled. "When I talk, do you listen?"

"Yes", I started to answer.

"Because I feel like you listen. You maintain eye contact, you generally don't interrupt me, and, on occasion, you respond appropriately". Why can't I decipher if I'm being complimented or critiqued? "Maybe it's your memory that's the problem. Tell me, do you often forget what you're doing or lose time?"

"No", I answered carefully and confused. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what caused this mood swing. Was he going through a hormonal shift? Was there a chemical imbalance in his brain? Was his body experiencing a shortage of serotonin?

"Oh", Adrian responded with scathing sarcasm. "So, maybe it's a selective memory problem that is afflicting you. Otherwise known as only recalling what you want to".

When Adrian finally paused, probably just because he needed to take a full breath of air, I said, "I'm sorry", while feeling like I was walking around blindfolded.

"What for?" Adrian demanded to know.

Merlin, it's a shame that I'm not an American in this life. If I was, then I'd plead the fifth. "I have no idea", I answered honestly. "It just feels like that is the correct answer".

Adrian huffed and looked away from me; busying himself with his school supplies. Quickly, I went searched my noggin for …. Whatever could be the cause of this. His birthday hadn't happened yet. We weren't the type to celebrate something ridiculous like a one-month or two-month anniversary. Did I miss arbor day? When humor didn't reveal the real answer to me, I tried to regain Adrian's attention. "Adrian", I called.

And he grunted at me. Him. Adrian, the old man in a young person's body. The person who lives and breathes manners and maintaining public appearances. I guess it's good to know that there is a teenage boy somewhere under all that pomp and circumstance.

"Adrian", I tried again. "we won't be able to kiss and make up until you tell me what I did that was wrong".

"You would like that wouldn't you?", Adrian retorted.

Was that a trick question? "Yes", I answered slowly as I thought about how the strangest things always seemed to happen in Snape's class.

"Because then you wouldn't have to invent stories to torment Stimpson with. You would be able to tell her the truth when you make offhanded comments about how talented I am at using my tongue", Adrian spoke bitingly.

Using his tongue, I replayed in my head. "Oh", I said when it donned on me.

"Yes, 'Oh'", Adrian confirmed.

Before I could apologize for real this time. Before I could investigate why kissing comments bothered him so much, Snape drew everyone's attention to him. "Today we will begin our unit on natural antidotes that can be foraged".

"Talk later", I whispered to Adrian. And he was just mad enough that he didn't feel the need to confirm.

"Though I implore all of you to not try to find these ingredients yourselves", Snape continued. "As I refuse to be held responsible when you mistakenly misidentify a healing herb and end up poisoning yourself". That man, he just has so much faith in is.

"Aye Aye, Captain Snape", Lee blurted out from the other side of the room.

"Detention Jordan".

"Yes, Snape-Sensei".

* * *

In Lockhart's class, we were doing his favorite activity; taking turns reading from one of his books. Today's selection was _Voyages with Vampires_. Unfortunately, Fred wasn't living up to Lockhart's standards. "'The Vampire with his marble pale skin and glistening fangs stalked closer. I knew I only had a few precious minutes to react'", Fred read aloud. "So, I withdrew my magic stick, and I-"

"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley", Lockhart interjected. "That is not the right word. Please don't paraphrase. I don't want your classmates following along to become confused".

"Right", Fred agreed quickly. "I'll try again". He made a big show of clearing his throat and ignoring the snickers of George and Lee, who had probably just figured out his word. "'So, I withdrew my spell-casting baton, and-"

"No, no, no, no", Lockhart interrupted again as our peers started to muffle their amusement. "Mr. Weasley, are you using a bootlegged copy?"

"No, Sir" Fred answered as I turned to Adrian. With Lockhart distracted by Fred and his use of synonyms, I was confident that he wouldn't notice any side conversations that were taking place during class.

I was having a hard time judging how angry Adrian actually was. On one hand, he'd had never been this frosty with me before. Not even when he found out that I had sent fake letters from him to Stimpson. On the other hand, we were still sitting together in our shared classes and he was letting me share his books since Fred and George had possession of our copies. So he couldn't be so mad that he didn't want to keep a ten-foot distance between us. "You didn't like the kiss comment I made to torment Stimpson", I whispered.

Looking up from _Voyages with Vampires_ , Adrian gave me a look that said he wanted to crown me with the obvious award. "I especially didn't like that I had to hear about this from Stimpson in the common room, or that you said something so crude in front of my impressionable younger cousins".

I bit my lip to prevent myself from making a comment about Hestia and Flora. Because if there was one thing those girls were, impressionable wasn't it. If Adrian wasn't so angry, I probably would have commented. "I didn't think that you would hear about it", I said instead. And I truly hadn't. Sure, maybe his cousins would tell him about how they creamed me in Gobstones. Maybe Ginny would have mentioned how Stimpson had verbally insulted me in front of the first years. But I hadn't thought that Stimpson would share our exchange with him.

"You never do", Adrian whispered back with a harsher intensity. "You just say whatever you want without considering who it will affect or how it will be perceived".

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times; unsure if I agreed with that observation. And unsure that, if I did disagree with it, if I wanted to argue that it wasn't true. "My dear boy, I am simply flummoxed about why you can't say the word, wand", I heard Lockhart say as I paused to think.

But Adrian wasn't done yet. After taking a deep breath he continued to whisper his grievances. "How do you think I felt when Stimpson marches up to me when I am socializing with my acquaintances and loudly proclaims that my girlfriend is a floozy".

Well… Wasn't that nice? "Floozy", I repeated. Causing Adriana to nod. Somehow, I think that's worse than being called a lickspittle.

"Among other things", Adrian added. A moment passed of us locking eyes. He was visibly deflating now that the problem was out of the open. While I was starting to feel some self-reproach for the discomfort that I had undoubtedly caused him. "Do you remember", Adrian started to ask. "that day when we took a walk around the lake".

"Yes, it was very nice", I answered.

Though Adrian continued as if I hadn't said anything. "And we talked about reputations and how damaging a bad one can be. And that I wouldn't do anything to give you a bad name".

"Yes, that was very big of you", I whispered.

"Except that does little good, if my own girlfriend is soiling her own name; making lewd comments about how talented my tongue is", He finished that statement with a pointed glare.

"In my defense", I said as Lockhart gave up on getting Fred to say the word wand, and decided that it was George's turn to start reading. "It was only one comment. And it gave you major cred in the man department".

Adrian stared at me blanking; suggesting that he didn't care about man-cred in the slightest. Interesting. I don't think I've ever dated a guy who didn't care about man-cred. "I'd prefer it if you didn't share our personal business. Especially when you're just trying to torture others". Yeah, I guess that's fair.

"Does it help that Stimpson was the one who started it?" Adrian answered my question by snorting and turning to a random page in _Voyages with Vampires_. Even though there was no point in doing so. It's not like either of us was paying any attention in this class. "So, what do I have to do to get you to forgive me for Stimpson's floozy comment?" I asked instead.

Adrian hummed softly. Probably relishing in the sudden power he had over me. "You can start by telling me why your brother can't use the word 'wand'".

* * *

"Dobby is most pleased to be here", Dobby said as a greeting the moment we arrived at the room of requirement.

"Thanks, Dobby", I said as we took in the room. Apparently, for destroying Horcruxes the appropriate décor consisted of dim lightening, leather couches, and throw pillows. Lots and lots of throw pillows. Okay, room of requirement. You do you. "Any problems getting here?" I asked as Fred pulled out the diary from under his robe. It was once more disguised as a Magical Me copy for easy transport.

"No Miss", Dobby answered as my brother and I sat down on one of the couches. "Me's family went to bed on time".

"Time?" George snorted as he made himself comfortable, and Fred started sniggering to himself. "The Malfoys have bedtimes?"

"Yes, sir", Dobby answered. Not seeing why we found amusement in this fact.

"Here Dobby", Fred said as he handed the diary over to the house-elf. "Any idea on how you're going to do it?" He asked out of curiosity.

Dobby took the diary with a shrug. "With magic sir", he answered in a very to-the-point manner. I cleared my throat as the boys choked on a chuckle. Right, our mistake. I'm not sure why we never considered using magic to destroy the diary.

"We thought that we'd focus on the diary tonight and discussion your liberation the next time we meet", I said once I found some composure. Between Lee, Stimpson, Adrian, and now Dobby, I was finding it increasingly difficult to reframe from sarcasm.

Dobby only nodded his assent as he moved away from the couches to an open space in the room. Fred, George, and I twisted around on the couch to watch him. Dobby was very serious as he removed the book cover from the diary. How considerate of him. He is silent as he places the diary in the middle of the stone floor and steps back, taking the book cover with him. When he is standing about six feet from the cursed diary, he places the book cover by his feet before locking his gaze on Tom Riddles' memory. For a solid minute, no one moved. Not me, not Fred, not George, and especially not Dobby. He was staring at the diary absolutely transfixed as his eyes narrowed and his focus grew in spades. This could be it. We could be moments away from a historical moment. Watching the first of seven Horcruxes being destroyed. With inhuman poise, Dobby raised his right hand with his long nimble fingers in position to snap. The magical energy in the air intensified the longer Dobby stared at the diary. "It's a shame I can't be this powerful with my magic stick", Fred said as the silence got to be too much for us.

"Shh" George and I shushed him at the same time. Watching this felt like the equivalent of watching an Olympic gymnast perform on an injured ankle and win a gold medal. We would regret it if we missed a single second of this.

Breathing deeply enough that the rise and fall of his chest were visible for us to see, Dobby took one more second to prepare himself. But then the second was over. He snapped with his thumb and index finger and a burst of magically charged energy engulfed the diary, like a high-pressured fire hose pointed at a burning building. The diary shook and flailed on the floor like a fish out of water as magical destruction seeped into its pages and light started radiating from it. But nothing about the diary's structure appeared to be changed. The leather cover didn't crack and none of the pages appeared to be disheveled. That's alright, I told myself as Dobby's magic started to subside. It was very unlikely that we would be successful after a first attempt. Dobby lowered his arm and turned his head towards. But before he could say or ask us anything, sheer white light beamed from the diary. It was bright enough to reach every nook and cranny in the room. Ringing. A high-pitched ringing, the type that signifies hearing losing started to pulsate from the diary as it raised off the floor at a speed that mocked eighties horror movies. What's happening? I asked myself as a hand, probably Fred's since he's the person sitting next to me, made contact with the top of my head, and pushed until I was fully covered by the backrest of the couch. Just in time too. Not a moment later, the ringing exploded into a full magical crack. Magical power ricocheted off the walls. It slammed into the leather upholstery of the couch with enough force that I could feel it vibrating as it was pushed back a couple of inches. Dobby went flying backward. And we only knew this due to the loud yell he released as his body collided with the wall behind him. It was like someone unleashed a landmine without body parts being blown to bloody smithereens.

Fred didn't let me raise my head until it had quieted down for a good solid minute. Not until the only sounds were a groaning Dobby. I had to blink the blinding pain out of my eyes from excessive light exposure before I could take anything in. The stone walls were scorched. The back of the couch's leather was now in tatters. It looked more like a fail attempt at making homemade beef jerky than a comfy home furnishing. The only thing that looked untouched was, of course, the diary. Dobby let out another pained groan in that high-pitched tone of his; effectively snapping the three of us out of our post-failure daze.

"Dobby, are you okay?" I asked, even though George is the first person to make it to the house-elf's side.

Very similar to the backside of the couch, Dobby's pillowcase was in tatters. At least, his skin wasn't in the same state. Instead, there were angry red splotches all over his body. Like he had been burned. Dobby didn't answer me as we all squatted around him. Instead, George looked at us and said, "I think we'll need burn salve", in the voice that is generally reserved for when Ginny does something with a broomstick that terrifies her older brothers. And since we're in the room of requirement, luckily, the much-needed burn salve poofs into existence. I guess it's a good thing we didn't try to do this in Gryffindor tower. As Fred fetched the salve, I returned to the couch and grabbed one of the throw pillows. "Here", Fred and I said at the same time. Fred, because he was handing the salve to George. And me, because I was sliding the throw pillow between Dobby's head and the wall.

With butterfly fingers, George applied the salve to every place that looked like it needed it. While Fred and I tried to spark a cognitive response from Dobby. "Dobby?" Fred tried. "Do you need anything? Other than your skin, what hurts?"

Instead of an answer, we got, "Dobby is sorry. Dobby's magic wasn't strong enough".

"Don't worry about it", I said, trying to prevent him from getting up too soon. "It sounded like you hit the wall pretty hard".

"Yeah", Fred agreed as George finished up with the burn salve. "Like a bludger trapped indoors".

"Does that feel better?" George asked with a bedside manner that I didn't know he had.

But we still didn't get an answer. "It's too dangerous. Dobby must get it out of Hogwarts now", Dobby declared as he made to sit up.

"No", all three of us said quickly.

"Our first attempt failed", I admitted once Dobby had stilled. "But that doesn't mean that should never try again".

"Maybe house-elves can't destroy evil possessed diaries", Fred added on.

"We didn't know that. So we tried it. And now we know, so we can try something else", George continued.

"We promise you Dobby", I said. With us triplets taking turns taking, we were probably giving Dobby whiplash. "That Hogwarts will not be safe unless we figure out how to destroy the diary".

It took us a while to talk Dobby down from taking the diary and running. It took even longer to get him to honestly answer if he was okay or not. It was nearing three o'clock in the morning when we were finally ready to start regrouping. "Okay", George said as he casts a quick repairing charm on the book cover we were using to disguise the diary. "So, I don't think we should try that again".

"Agreed", Fred and I echoed.

"And I don't know what we should try next", George continued as he retrieved the diary to place the cover back on it.

"Which means we need to go back to the drawing board", I said as I pulled out my wand to help Dobby fix his pillowcase. It wouldn't do for him to go home in this state. What would the Malfoys say?

"So next Wednesday, if we meet, we should focus on figuring out how to free Dobby", Fred said as he watched us get organized. At least we didn't have to do anything to clean up or fix the room of requirement. It is nice to have a room that can pick up after itself.

Dobby's ears perked up. "You still want to help Dobby?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah", Fred said.

At the same time, George responded with, "of course".

"A deal's a deal," I said. "You tried to help us, so now it's our turn to help you. We already have a couple of ideas about how we can get Malfoy Jr. to slip you some clothes.

"And who knows", Fred continued. "Maybe there's still a way you can help us destroy the diary. Even if it isn't with house-elf magic".

George snorted. "Maybe the great and conquering hero, Lockhart can help us".

I rolled my eyes but was grateful for the attempt at levity. "Oh yes, Lockhart the defeater of all things evil will definitely be able to destroy the diary".

"Such a shame that destroying the diary wouldn't be a long enough adventure to turn into a book, otherwise I'd say we should ask him", Fred said, adding to our round-robin game of sarcastic humor.

"How do you think he'd do it?" I asked, just to keep this bit going.

George answered with a shrug. "Probably just like he did in Voyages with Vampires. With his wand and cascading spells consisting of magical superiority".

"It's such a pity he wasn't teaching here last year", Fred said so sardonically that I could taste it.

"I know", I said, playing along. "We would have learned so much".


	50. Happy 15th

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Happy 15th

Adrian refused to forgive me, even when Saturday rolled around. Though at this point, I think it's become more of a game for him to see what he could get me to do rather than him actually feeling angry. So far, I had sat through one of his quidditch practices, (which entailed listening to his teammates make rude comments about Gryffindors and Flint accusing me of spying for Wood), I helped Flora and Hestia with their Charms homework so he didn't have to, I prevented Fred and George from trying out their recently improved nose-bleed potion on him, and I even ate lunch with him at Slytherin table. I shudder just thinking about that meal. Sure, it was nice to do normal boyfriend-girlfriend things with Adrian. We got to hold hands under the table, and playfully bicker about why mayonnaise is and isn't gross. But we had to do all of this under the intensely suffocating glare of Stimpson. Merlin. I now consider it a blessing that voodoo isn't heavily practiced in the UK like it is in other parts of the world. Because if Stimpson had access to that type of magic, I think there would be about a dozen of Holly Weasley like voodoo dolls being thrown into fires or plunged into water.

So, now that it was Saturday and the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, I was determined to wrestle the power back from Adrian. I was supposed to be the one calling the shots in this relationship. I mean, damn it! I called dibs the first day that we were officially a couple. That morning, I took my time getting ready. Just like the first time Adrian and I had gone to Hogsmeade together, I ended up borrowing clothes from Alicia to make myself appear more girly. There was just something about wearing one of Charlie's hand-me-down jumpers that made flirting with Adrian unappealing. Like last time, Adrian was waiting for me in the entrance hall. Unlike last time, thankfully, Stimpson wasn't hanging off his arm like she had boneless legs. "Good morning", Adrian greeted with a smile once we had locked eyes.

"Morning", I said back as I took the last couple of steps needed to stand in front of him. "Happy late birthday". I said; reaching out to hug him. His birthday was on the fifteenth, but since that date fell on a Thursday this year, we had to push back celebrating until the weekend. Adrian accepted the hug by wrapping his arms around my waist while I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me in closer with an ease that suggested neither eagerness nor displeasure. My boy is definitely the cool type.

We remained embraced for a while; smelling the scent of each other's shampoos. We didn't care about the students that passed by us; either heading to Hogsmeade like us, or to the great hall. It wasn't until we heard the unmistakable voice of Hermione Granger, preaching, "End house-elf slavery", that we broke apart.

"Are you ready to go?" Adrian asked after we had returned our hands to our sides.

"Maybe", I answered, smiling at him to let him know that I hadn't given him a serious answer. "Before we go, I think it's important that we both agree to not expose any more past lives while in Hogsmeade".

Adrian snorted, as he started turning for the doors that would lead us to the grounds; offering me his arm as he usually does. "Oh, don't worry", he said; waiting for me to rest my left hand on the crook of his elbow before continuing. "I was planning on saving that announcement for our one-year anniversary".

We started for the doors, blending with all of the other older students that were also allowed to escape Hogwarts for the day. "Well, I guess that will make the train ride to school interesting", I played along. Though at that moment it did occur to me how nice it would be to have an anniversary on September 1st. That's one date that's hard to forget.

The outside air was crisp, and I just knew that my nose would turn red before the day was out. We didn't talk as we walked away from the castle. The chattering of other students making it difficult for us to hear each other. Though the further away we got, the more the crowd of students thinned out; everyone traveling at their own pace. "Where would you like to go today?" Adrian asked once we started the decline into Hogsmeade village.

"No", I said with a shake of my head. "We're celebrating your birthday, so you get to choose". That was important to me, especially since I didn't have any money to treat him. He'd have to pay, so he should get to choose what we'd do. Not to mention that I was feeling slightly bad that the only birthday present I had for him, was homemade and small enough to fit in my pocket.

Before I could respond, George bolts past Adrian in a flash of red and orange. It's so unexpected that I stepped closer to Adrian's side; shivering from the cold air. Seconds later, Fred sprinted down the hill after George, yelling, "Give me my magic-making tool back". Huh, they hadn't said anything about going to Hogsmeade last night. I wonder what made them change their minds.

"I see your brother still isn't using the word 'wand'", Adrian commented once Fred and George had disappeared from our sight.

"Yeah", I responded with a shrug. The magic word game had turned out to be the longest game in the boys' year-long competition so far. Though, Lee had lost during transfiguration class. McGonagall had given him the look that can make all Gryffindors toe the line, and he lost without putting up much of a fight. "George really wants to win, but Fred is desperate since he hasn't won any of the other games so they're taking it really seriously". Or as serious as Fred and George are capable of. I hunched my shoulders up to my ears to try to block some of the chilled fall air. Maybe I should change their magic words soon so the game doesn't drag on forever. "So," I said, turning back to our original conversation. "What do you want to do first?"

Adrian let out an exasperated sigh as he stopped walking, tugging me to a halt. "I think", He said as he unhooked our arms and reached up to unwrap his scarf. "That the first thing I want to do is go to Gladrags Wizardwear, and buy you a scarf". Adrian didn't pause. As soon as he had pulled his silver and green scarf off his neck, he started to tie it around mine. As soon as he was done, I smelled the now-familiar scent of mint and pine.

"You can't spend money on me on your birthday", I argued as we looped arms again and continued on our way.

"It's not my birthday", He countered.

"Fine then", with a roll of my eyes. But I wasn't annoyed. This was the type of friendly bickering that I liked best. The kind that Jessie always tried to start with her significant others, but never managed to actually have. "You can't spend money on me on the day we're celebrating your birthday".

The town came into view. It wouldn't be long now until we would actually have to decide on a plan of action. "I thought you said I get to choose", Adrian argued.

"You do", was my immediate response.

"And I'm choosing to buy you are scarf", Adrian in a manner that suggested that that was the end of the argument.

But I have an almost compulsive need to have the last word. "But I don't need a scarf". And that was the truth. Mum knitted more than enough scarves for everyone in the family. It's the one thing, other than children, that the Weasley family had an abundance of. Hell, a scarf is what we gave Great Aunt Muriel for Christmas every year.

"And yet I never see you wearing one", Adrian made his counter-statement, talking like my lack of scarves was a mystery for the ages. Okay, Mr. Sarcastic. I hear you.

I smiled up at him. "I prefer your scarf", I said, laying it on thick. I even took it a step further by batting my eyelashes at him.

Adrian laughed through his nose with his mouth closed as we entered Hogsmeade village. With an eye roll of his own, Adrian said, "In that case, we will go to Gladrags Wizardwear where I will buy myself a scarf, and you can continue using mine". Aww, how cute of him. But I'm happy to see that we have the capacity to compromise.

* * *

Shopping with Adrian was… a test of endurance. That's the only way I can think to describe it. In my first life, I had been a big believer in the benefits of retail therapy. My belief was so strong that some people probably would have considered Jessie to be a shopaholic. But in this life, I hated shopping. Maybe it was because I didn't have a lot of spare money to play around with. Or maybe it was because I had learned the hard way that material possessions don't matter in the end. No matter the reason, the fact remains, that I have little patience for comparing prices and discussing the quality of the goods. Adrian, on the other hand, looked at every scarf they had like the wrong choice would ruin his life. He liked the green cotton scarf because it was on clearance, but it wasn't the right type of green. It wasn't Slytherin green, and therefore he couldn't wear it with his school uniform. It would clash. The gray wool scarf was a contender. After all, wool scarves are always the best because they're warm and durable. But he wasn't crazy about the tassels hanging off the ends of the scarf. That was one fashion choice he couldn't get behind. We looked at satin scarves that were quickly rejected because a satin scarf was impractical and more of an accessory statement for women. The same was said about a display of chiffon scarves. The polar fleece scarves were an option. But we couldn't find any that didn't have some sort of pattern. "Only stripes or solid colors", Adrian had decided after looking at a paisley purple scarf with disgust. My suggestion of a colonel mustard yellow scarf was quickly turned down for being too Hufflepuff. We probably spent an hour at Gladrags just looking at scarves before Adrian returned to the gray wool scarf and declared that he can live with tassels.

"I think you picked a good one", I said as we left the shop; each of us with a scarf wrapped around our necks. "Gray matches your eyes".

Adrian's expression was soft as he stared down at me. And for the first time, I actually felt like we were on a normal date; doing normal couple things. "Three broomsticks?" He asked.

"Lead the way", I answered. We didn't have to walk far before entering the popular Hogsmeade pub. But once inside, engulfed by the pub's toasty atmosphere, it was a challenge to find an open table. Especially one that offered a bit of privacy. Maybe that's why couples generally went to Madam Puddifoot's. But that type of place wasn't mine or Adrian's cup of tea. Standing on my tiptoes, I strain my neck trying to see over the crowd of students and locals. "I think I see an open table in the back", I said after a moment.

"Alright", Adrian said loud enough for me to hear over all the other conversations taking place. "You try to grab the table, and I'll get drinks. Is butterbeer okay?"

"Sounds good", I said before we broke apart, each hurrying to complete our tasks before anyone could get in our way. I had to use my shoulders to wedge myself through different clumps of people to get to the back table; apologizing whenever I accidentally stepped on someone's foot. I had to rush the last couple of feet to the table to get there before a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff couple could, but it was worth it. This table was in a shadowed back corner of the pub. In most cases, it was the type of table that no one wanted in restaurants, because of the poor lighting and limited space. But for teenagers on a date, it was perfect. Being in a shadowed corner gave it mood lighting. The table's small size made it impossible for Adrian and I to not be in constant contact with each other. The best part is that it is one of those half-booth half chairs tables. With a bench on one side and a pull-out chair on the other. Adrian and I could sit next to each other, pressed against each other's sides. Or we could sit across from each other with our knees touching and our feet competing for space. As I wait for Adrian to join me with the drinks, I took a seat on the booth part of the table, pressing myself as far into the corner as I could so it would be clear to Adrian that there was room for him to seat next to me if he wanted to. My heart was fluttering in a way that I hadn't felt in this lifetime. It gave me a sense of nostalgia, as I thought back to all the dates Jessie had gone on that left her with the feeling I had now. But then my thoughts turned to Adrian and those past date thoughts disappeared. Adrian was different from all those guys. He was incomparable. Maybe that was because he was also a reincarnated soul. But I felt more at ease and less self-conscious with him than I had with any other love interest. Surely, that meant something.

Fighting the same crowd I had to in order to get this table, Adrian shimmied his way through the throngs of people with a pint of butterbeer in each hand; holding them up to lessen the risk of getting bumped into and spilling them. He was successful in his endeavor. "This place hasn't changed", he said after setting the drinks on the table and sitting down next to me. He casually puts an arm over my shoulders to make ourselves more comfortable in the tight space.

I give myself a moment to revel in his closeness before asking, "Did you come here often?" It's left unsaid that I'm asking about his past life. Adrian wouldn't appreciate me asking something like that in a place where we could be overheard.

Adrian takes a long sip from his pint before answering. "Only once or twice. Back then, I didn't – he didn't like being surrounded by people".

"I guess the Three Broomsticks is pretty old then", I said, steering the topic away from Regulus. I know that isn't something Adrian likes to dwell on. At least, as long Sirius isn't involved.

"Rumor has it", Adrian starts to say as I took my first sip; foam tickling my nose. "That the Three Broomsticks is as old as the village. Going back to medieval times". I place my pint down on the tabletop to give Adrian my full attention. Though I guess I failed to drink as neatly as Adrian because he reached over with his free hand to wipe off some excess foam before continuing. "Though I imagine it's changed a bit since then. But Madam Rosmerta was running this place back when I was… someone else. So, I'd say it's safe to assume nothing has changed in the last couple of decades".

We sit in silence for a few moments just enjoying our butterbeers and the company. It's a nice feeling when you can feel close to someone without having to talk. When I finish half of my pint, I lean into Adrian's side and rest my head on his shoulder; peering up. He has his pint raised to his lips. Giving me a good view of his chiseled jawline. But he does his best to look down at me, despite the awkward angle. "Do you miss it?" I finally worked up the courage to ask. It was something that I wanted to express for a long time, but something that only another reincarnated person would understand. "Do you miss being an adult?" I rephrased.

Adrian set his pint down, and respond in a calm voice. "I don't know. I wasn't an adult for very long".

I had to think about that. And after doing some mental math I understood what he meant. Regulus died when he was eighteen years old. So, he had only been of majority age for about a year or two. And he had been an adult while fighting in a war, so it was unlikely that he got to experience the fun parts of adulthood.

Before I could apologize for being insensitive, Adrian asked, "what do you miss about your life before…" He trailed off; not feeling comfortable asking about life before Holly in such an open setting.

I hummed as I thought about how to answer, locking eyes with him. "Voting was fun".

"Voting?" He asked.

"Yeah, in America if you're an American citizen, eighteen years or older, and haven't committed any felonies, you get to vote local, state, and federal elections. Like who's going to be the president, or if your county should use tax money to improve the roads. The first election you vote in is exciting, but the novelty wears off after a while. Though I do miss it". I shrugged after my answer, hoping that I explained it well enough. But I quickly thought of other adult things that I missed, because I didn't want to dive into the topic of politics. Especially politics that no longer affected me. "I also miss being able to eat whatever I want without a parent telling me not to". You haven't lived until your dinner is half a carton of ice cream. Though I wouldn't recommend making a habit of the practice.

"Hmm", Adrian vocalized as smiled a closed-mouth smile. "Yes, I remember that freedom. My mother never let me have fried foods. Said they were too plebian. But one night when I was away from home, I ate fish and chips at some dingy establishment that's probably gone out of business by now. I think that was the first time I rebelled". For a moment, we let our thoughts carry us away to different places. I don't know where Adrian's thoughts took him. But mine took me back to Nebraska and my Freshmen year of college where I learned about many adult things. "But", Adrian said not long after. "I wouldn't trade this life for anything. My parents, they're…. I mean, I don't mind being a minor again since they're the ones looking out for me".

I knew exactly what he meant. Mum and Dad were the perfect parents that I didn't always feel like I deserve. And all my siblings; I probably didn't deserve them either. But now that I knew what it felt like to be in a loving, close-knit family, I'll never be able to go back to how I was living before. "Yeah", I agreed. "I wouldn't trade it either". Before we could go too deep into self-reflection, I gave my head a small shake. Sitting up, forcing Adrian to shift in the process, I asked, "Are you ready for your birthday gift?"

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "You're not about to make another crude comment about kissing, are you?"

"No", I answered with a huff as I put my hand into my pocket to dig out his present. "I already promised you that I wouldn't do that again. At least, not when I'm in public". It took a couple of attempts considering the limited space, but I managed to pull out the folded piece of parchment from my pocket. "But I'm hoping that with this gift, you can let me off the hook", I said offering the parchment to him.

Just like when he was wiping foam off my face, Adrian uses his free hand to take his birthday gift from me. With that one hand, he uses his fingers to unfold it before reading aloud. "This is a one-time coupon that will allow you to win any argument. Just hand me this coupon when you want to use it and I'll stop arguing with you". When he finished reading, Adrian glanced up at me; eyes alight with some emotion that I was having trouble defining. "Where did you come up with this idea?"

I shrugged. "You have to be creative when you lack funds. Happy 15th birthday".


	51. Bloody Hell

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Bloody Hell

Dobby missed the next two Wednesdays. We told ourselves that the Malfoys were probably keeping him busy, but we were still worried. What if he had been more injured than we had originally thought? What if the Malfoys had noticed the burns and had forced the truth out of him? There were a lot of possible what-ifs in this situation, and we didn't like most of them. But for now, there wasn't much we could do about it. We continued to research how to free house-elves and destroy Horcruxes in our free time. But other than that, all we could do was go about our daily lives. Fred and George were still in the midst of the magic word game, but it was growing increasingly harder for both of them. Fred was running out of ways to refer to his wand. In a desperate attempt to prevent himself from slipping up, he decided to name his wand Bernard. Now, whenever George or Lee would take his wand to try to get him to say his magic wand, Fred would just yell, "No! Not Bernard!". The game got harder for George too, because after five days Lee and Fred finally found out what his word is. Which is quill. How Lee and Fred found out was an absolute fluke. George and I had been sitting at a table in the common room working on homework; passing notes and school supplies back and forth. He was working on potions, while I was struggling through herbology when he asked, "Hey, mine broke. Can you pass me yours?"

Now, in most cases, a person would look up to see what he was referring to. But since I was so focused on the very exciting subject of magical plants, A.K.A, the bane of my magical education, I didn't look up. Instead, I just grumbled at him, "what broke?"

"This," he said again, trying to get me to look up. But I was too focused.

"Oh, yeah. Sure", I said as attempted to read my herbology text. Without any forethought on my part, I push an unused roll of parchment to his side of the table. Parchment can break, right?

"No, Holly". George complained. "Just look at what I'm holding".

I let out an annoyed huff, as I tore my attention away from my least favorite subject, only to see that George was holding a quill in his right hand that had a snapped-off tip. Oh, okay. Everything made sense now. But unfortunately for George, neither of us had noticed that Lee had been close enough to watch our whole exchange. "Your word is quill!" He announced, making us aware of his presence. George tensed, and I felt a little guilty. He had been doing so well in this game. Why hadn't I just looked up? "Hey, Fred!" Lee called across the common room. "George's word is quill!".

And that's how Fred and Lee found out George's magical word.

Fred and George weren't the only ones saddled with an increased amount of quidditch practice. Adrian was in the same boat. It made sense with the Slytherin V. Gryffindor just around the corner. But it meant that I was spending a lot of time alone with my friends, boyfriend, and fellow triplets being stuck on the quidditch pitch for the majority of their free time. So, the only people I was socializing with was Percy, Ron, and Hermione. Occasionally, I'd have small conversations with Ginny and her friends. But I wasn't desperate enough to ask to hang out with eleven-year-olds. That's something I'd only do if they asked me. Percy, I could only take in small doses and he was more interested in Clearwater than me so I only spent time with him if I convinced him to help me with my homework. With Ron and Hermione, they were more open to doing things with me since Harry had quidditch practice as well. And by doing things, I mean Ron would kick my butt in chess while we tuned out Hermione as she gave us updates on how her house-elf liberation campaign was going. Though this did prove to be an optimal time to plant another idea in Hermione's head. "Do you know the easiest way to free a house-elf?" I asked her one evening as Ron used his bishop to take out my knight.

"No", she answered eagerly.

"You have to get one of his or her owners to give them a piece of clothing". I said as I tried to figure out how to capture Ron's rook. "But it has to come from them", I clarified. "Clothes for anyone else doesn't count". I'm not sure if there's any point in telling her this. Maybe it'll help in our endeavors to free Dobby. Or maybe learning about this now will somehow prevent her from taking up knitting and littering the common room with a bunch of hats during her fourth year.

But still, that is all I can really say about how I spent my time in the days leading up to Halloween. I did homework, lose at chess, tried to spend time with Adrian during class, and waited every Wednesday for Dobby to show up. Other than Harry getting invited to nearly headless Nick's deathday party, nothing noteworthy happened. Fred, George, and I weren't monitoring the golden trio like we had last year. With the diary in our possession, there wasn't a real need to do so. Since the chamber of secrets wouldn't be opening this year, we didn't need to track the order of events as Jessie remembered them, especially since those memories were no longer completely accurate. It should be a quiet year for the golden trio. Hopefully the first of more to come.

* * *

This year Halloween was on a Saturday. A small blessing for both students and teachers, because it meant that they didn't have to struggle to maintain order in their classes and we got to spend the whole day celebrating the holiday. Some students wandered down to Hagrid's hut to carve pumpkins. Some were holding tests of courage in unused parts of the castle. Many were setting off dung bombs in the corridors and ultimately ruining Filch's day. A lot of rules were broken, but in light of the holiday, most members of the staff were okay with looking the other way as long as no one got hurt. I still spent a lot of the day alone, since Wood decided a holiday wasn't a good enough reason to miss quidditch practice. But Fred, George, and I had every intention to enjoy the Halloween feast together. So, when dinner time rolled around I headed down to the great hall without any worries. If I remember correctly, I think this is the year that Dumbledore hires a troupe of dancing skeletons to perform. That should be fun.

And I was right. When I stepped into the great hall, the feast was already underway. The lighting had been dimmed to a spooky glow for the event. Live bats were fluttering around the floating candle. I spot Fred and George already seated at Gryffindor table and make my way over to them. Fred was halfway through a butterbeer float. And George had chocolate pudding smeared around his lips as he slurped a gummy snake into his mouth. "Did you save any for me?" I jokingly asked as I squeezed in between them.

"Hunger waits for no man, Holls", Fred retorted, but he wasted no time as he handed me a platter of pumpkin pasties.

I loaded my plate with every sweet thing I could get my hands on but added a plain apple just so I could give myself the illusion that I was making healthy choices. "How was practice?" I asked once I was satisfied with my dinner plate.

"Wood's a monster", was George's immediate response as he talked around a mouthful of candy. "He had use flying even though it was raining and starting to thunder".

"We're lucky no one got hit by lightning", Fred added with a groan. But he didn't stay focused on quidditch for very long. "Hey, George. Can you pass me one of those sugar…" He trailed off as he rested a fist against his chin as if he was trying to think the right word. I snorted and busied myself with some sort of tart. "Um, sugar… sugar… what are they called?" Fred asked as he gestured towards a jar filled with sugar quills.

Knowing exactly what Fred was doing, George just pushed the jar closer to Fred without answering him. I don't think Fred was surprised that his plan didn't work because he took his requested treat without any attitude.

The dancing skeletons made an appearance about halfway through the feast. They started with a tap dance on the teacher's dais. But it wasn't long until they were waltzing down the aisles between the tables. It was a great feast made even better by the fact that it wasn't interrupted by a mountain troll.

* * *

We left the Great Hall with the rest of the student body; feeling stuffed to the brim. Thank Merlin it was Saturday. Because that meant we had all Sunday to stay in bed and recover from our gluttony. Fred, George, and I were moving slowly as we headed for Gryffindor Tower. Maybe I would bunk with them tonight. Once I laid down, I knew that I wouldn't want to move again. But if I had a nightmare, I know I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep without Fred and George. So, I should just plan ahead and stay with my brothers. But all thoughts of sleeping and the feeling of overeating were swept out of my consciousness when the flow of traffic came to a halt. Everyone started whispering to each other, gossiping about what could be the cause. "We are close to Moaning myrtle's bathroom", I heard one sixth-year mumble. "Think she flooded it again?"

That comment had me nervously glancing at Fred and George. There's no way… But receiving similar looks from them had us pushing and shoving until we managed to make it to the front of the traffic jam. At the center of all of this with students from all houses and years surrounding them are Ron, Harry, Hermione, Mrs. Norris hanging by her tail, and a message spelled out in blood.

"No", I whispered as my brain shut down due to an overload of intense thoughts and feelings. This shouldn't be happening. This shouldn't be possible. We had the diary. No one had been writing in it. This shouldn't be possible.

Malfoy and crew managed to push themselves to the front from a different angle. Crabbe and Goyle stared at the scene with lost expressions on their pudgy faces, but Malfoy was a lot faster at making deductions. "The Chamber of Secrets has now been opened. Enemies of the heir beware", Malfoy read the bloody message aloud. Just hearing it spoken caused my heart to skip a beat. Of course, I knew the line by heart. What Harry Potter fan didn't? But I didn't have any intention of hearing those words in this life. Why would I when we have possession of the diary? Just like he had done in the movie that Jessie remembers, Malfoy turns his attention to Harry, Ron, and Hermione as he addresses the student body as a whole. "You'll be next mudbloods".

"Holly", George whispered as he nudged me with his arm. "What do we do?"

"How is this happening?" Fred asked, also in a happening.

It took a couple of seconds to get my vocal cords to work. "I don't- I don't know". I answered honestly; unable to turn my eyes away from the golden trio. It bugged me that Ron was standing in the center of all this. A part of me wanted to rush forward and pull him away from his friends and hide him behind Fred and George. But another part of me was frozen in place. My mind was spinning, trying to restart itself to return to regular functioning capability. But none of that mattered. Not when I was stuck watching an event play out how I knew it would, but had absolutely no clue how it came to be.

"Out of my way! Out of my way!" I heard the familiar screech of Filch as he pushed students aside. He walked with his head down, only looking up after he had broken through the wall that is Malfoy and his goons. Filch paused as he took in the terrified expressions of the golden trio, the blood graffitiing the wall, and his precious cat hanging off a torch bracket. "You murdered my cat", Filch stated with a smack of his quivering lips.

"No", Harry tried to interject.

"You murdered my cat!" Filch repeated with more emotion as his voice shook; hands balled into fists and trembling at his sides. "I'll kill you!" Filch exclaimed, taking a menacing step towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"No", Harry tried again as he and the rest of the golden trio took a step back; their footsteps louder than normal because of all the water on the ground.

"I'll kill you!" Filch yelled again, This time with his left fist raised in the air like a villain from Scooby-Doo.

"Argus", A new voice broke in through the sea of students and Filch's threats. "Argus", Dumbledore repeated as he appeared. Everyone, including the grieving Filch, fell silent as Dumbledore's eyes took in the scene before. His body didn't tense, he didn't gasp or making any sound of surprise or fear. Instead, his eyes hardened behind his half-moon spectacles as he studied the writing on the wall. That, more than anything else, got me wheels turning again. Why did Dumbledore look so… so calculating? Now? In this moment when danger decided to rear its ugly head once more? This was turning out to be a puzzle. One that I didn't have all the pieces to solve. "Everyone", Dumbledore said after a moment in a common voice that demanded attention and compliance. "Will proceed to their dormitories. Everyone, except you three", he said, gesturing to the golden trio.

At once there was a surge of activity as prefects rounded up their house members, and everyone moved to obey. Not surprising. I wouldn't want to be standing in front of a haunting message for long periods of time either. George grabbed my hand and started pulling me in the direction of Gryffindor tower when he and Fred were ready to move faster than I was. "Wait", I said as I stumbled a little. "Maybe we should try to help Ron first", I said. But I'm not sure why. I knew Ron would be okay. They knew Ron would be okay. It wasn't like he was a parseltongue or anything. It wasn't like he could hear a voice coming from the plumbing. But I needed more time. More time to think; to panic before having to buckle down and figuring out what went wrong.

But Fred and George still had their heads. At least they were still thinking. "We need to check on the diary", Fred said from behind me as George lead the way. "We need to be ready for the worst".

"At least until we figure out how this happened", George added as we started up a flight of stairs.

"Just in case", Fred continued, voice wary. "Do you both have your wands on you?" He asked. But before either of us could answer him he said, "Ah, hell". George had just won the magical word game.

* * *

As soon as we made it through the Fat Lady's portrait, we rushed past all our fellow Gryffindors who hanged back to gossip and dashed up the stairs leading to the boys' dormitories. "When was the last time we looked at the diary?" George asked as raced into their room. Luckily, none of their roommates were back yet.

"Um", I started. Stuttering because my nerves were frayed. "W-Wednesday", I answered. "We last saw the diary when we took it to the room or requirement".

"And we're sure that we brought it back with us?" Fred asked as he dropped down in front of his trunk, and threw open the trunk's lid. It smacked against his four-poster bed with a resounding bang.

"Of course", I answered; completely sure that we wouldn't have been that careless with a dark and dangerous magical object. Until I wasn't. "I think", I amended.

George had taken to pacing the length of the dorm room as Fred digs through the contents of his trunk. "No, no", he muttered. "We definitely brought it back. I was the one carrying it. I was the one who put it back in Fred's trunk". That made me feel a little better But not enough that I couldn't stop freaking out. We screwed up. We screwed up big. And the worse part was that we didn't even know how we had screwed up. Bloody hell, if people got hurt or died because the chamber reopened that would be on us.

"Got it!" Fred exclaimed as he tossed a stray sock aside before pulling out the diary, still disguised by a Magical Me cover. The three of us simultaneously took exhaled in relief, and my muscles lost some of the tension they were holding. "It's still here", He said holding up the diary for all of us to see.

But our relief didn't last long. It lasts only long enough for us to ask more questions. "But that doesn't make any sense". I said, hating myself for having to state it "If we have the diary then no one's been possessed, so who could have opened the chamber?"

We fell into silence, each of us studying each other; hoping that one of us had the answer. "Do you think Malfoy Sr. gave us a fake?" George asked.

"No", Fred said at the same time that I shook my head. "That doesn't work out. He didn't know that we know about the diary or Horcruxes or about the chamber of secrets. Besides, what would be the point of giving us a fake diary? Even if he was going to use someone else other than Ginny to unlock Slytherin's monster".

I moved closer to Fred and took the disguised diary from him. I needed to touch, which is something I never thought I'd feel about a Horcrux. But I need to assure myself that it was here, that we hadn't lost it. "Maybe", Fred said; making it his turn to share a theory "Maybe someone has been taking it from my trunk, using it, and putting it back before we could notice."

This time George shakes his head. "No, we still have the intruder spell in place. If anyone other than the three of us tried to open your trunk we would have known". As I held the diary in my hands, I couldn't help but think that it felt off. Like it felt… heavier. My eyes widen as a scary thought… a scarier thought entered my mind. Did souls have mass? If the diary was slowly possessing someone, did it's increased weight means that there was someone's life force already being held prisoner in the diary's pages? Other than Tom Riddle, I mean.

Fred ruffled his hair in agitation. "The only other reason I can think of", he started to say before pausing, as if his thought was just too terrible to voice. I was listening, but my thoughts were pulling my attention in a different direction. Slowly, not wanting to but knowing that I must, I opened the diary to a random page.

George continued Fred's line of thought without any prompting. "Is that one of us must have written in the diary. One of us opened the chamber".

But that didn't make any sense either. All of us had been together during the Halloween feast. None of us had even gotten up to use the bathroom. We had been together the whole time. I focused my eyes on the page I had randomly opened to, and the sight gave me a start. Meanwhile, Fred and George continued to discuss the possibility of one of us being possessed. "It couldn't have been you or me", Fred said to George. "We're hardly ever apart". There were words on this page. And not handwritten words. Words that were printed, that were typed. There were even page numbers in the corners.

"That only leaves…" George trailed off. I looked up from what I was not convinced was not the diary, after all, to see my fellow triplets staring at me.

"It's not me!" I said quickly, catching up with their train of thought.

"That's exactly what a person possessed by You-Know-Who would say", Fred countered.

"And you have been spending a lot of time by yourself since we got busy with quidditch practice", George said in a more careful voice than Fred.

"What? No!" I said forcefully, as I held up the book for them to see the page I was looking at. "Guys look at this. I don't think it's the diary. I think it got switched somehow", I explained as I started to take off the Magical Me book cover. Underneath it was not the leather of the diary but, the embossed title Magical Me. Someone, somehow the diary had gotten switched with the book it had been impersonating.

Fred snatched the book from me and started turning it over in his hands, studying it from all angles. George and I watched him, anxiously waiting for his diagnosis. Both of us probably wanted him to include that it was not the diary and that I wasn't possessed. Fred turned the book over in his hands three times. He flicked through its pages and even went as far as smelling it. As if he knew that the difference in smell between an evil diary and a regular book. Until he finally stated, "this isn't the diary".

Silence engulfed us once more as the panickily tried to figure out what happened. But nothing became clear. We had been so careful. We had lost sleep making sure no one could take the cursed thing from us. We jerry-rigged Fred's trunk to keep it as secure as possible. How did it get taken? How did we lose it? After a moment of not coming up with any answers, George said, "bloody hell, this is a mess".


	52. Interference

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Interference

"Hey, Ron", I said with fake cheer as I approached my little brother and his friends at Gryffindor table. I squeezed in between him and Harry and swung an arm over both boys' shoulders. "Hey, Harry".

Both boys stared at me with startled expressions. Harry with eggs loaded onto his fork, and Ron with bacon crammed into his mouth. Though Ron recovered faster than Harry. "Merlin", he complained around his mouthful. "It's too early to deal with you". Aw, my little brother is so considerate about my feelings.

"You don't even know what I'm talking to you for", I said as I gave Ron's shoulders a little shake. "I could be here because I want to ask you about… a good defensive move to use in wizard chess…" I trailed off; feeling the disbelieving stares of both boys.

Ron chewed and swallowed before asking in his suspicious voice, "Are you really?"

From the other side of the table, Hermione snorted as she placed her goblet of pumpkin juice down. "Of course not", she said, sounding all-knowing. I rolled my eyes as I removed my arms from over Ron and Harry's shoulders. How much longer until she grows out of this phase? That happens next year, right?

"Hey, Granger. How's the house-elf campaign going?" I asked.

But she didn't take the bait. Ignoring me completely she kept her eyes on Ron. "She wants to ask you about what happened last night".

Ron huffed as he turned in his seat to face me. "I'm fine", he said. "Quit acting like Mum".

I felt my face scrunch up in its best offended expression. "I don't act like Mum". I, for one, don't sound shrill when I yell, and I don't have a crush on Lockhart.

Ron responded by turning away from me and shoving a fork load of scrambled eggs into his mouth. "You're always with Mum in the kitchen", he talked around his mouthful. With his face turned towards his plate, I was spared the unfortunate sight of half-deconstructed food. But based on Hermione's horrified expression, she was getting a front-row seat.

"I like to cook", I refuted. I can enjoy cooking without being Mum's mini-me.

"You actually don't mind when Mum makes us listen to Celestina Warbeck on Christmas Eve", Ron continued.

I made a face like I was asking, 'where is this coming from', as I argued, "It's tradition!"

Ron paused just long enough to swallow before he continued with his list. "And you have a compulsive need to always be right". Ron turned to look at me after he made that statement. He narrowed his eyes like he was daring me to deny it. Merlin, this brat. As if we didn't all have the drive to compete with each other and win.

"It's not a compulsion if I am always right", I said; looking over at Harry for support. But the boy-who-lived flushed and refused to look at me. Well… fine then. I thought as I looked back at Ron. We all have flaws and I guess Ron just called me out on one of mine.

As if he hadn't heard me, Ron continued. "And", he said; drawing out the word. "you're always checking up on Ginny and I. And asking if we're okay".

I rolled my eyes at that one. I mean, come on. That isn't just a Mum thing. Dad does it too. And I have memories of Bill and Charlie constantly running to check on me and my fellow triplets whenever there was an inexplicable loud noise in our general vicinity. Of course, they stopped doing that when they realized that Fred, George, and I were making the loud noises… "Do you want me to stop checking that you haven't spontaneously died?"

Ron's freckles faded out of view as color rushed into his checks. "No", he said quietly; ducking his head over his plate.

With that admittance, any annoyance I may have been feeling about the compulsive need comment vanished. There's the little brother I know, love, and probably don't deserve. "Look", I said, this time addressing all three of them. Hermione seemed to hear the change in my tone because she leaned forward ever so slightly. I waited until I was sure both Ron and Harry were also looking at me before saying, "Do you guys remember the troll from last year?" I waited until I got three confirming head nods. "And Ron's rat turning out to be a psychotic cowardly man?" Again, I waited for head nods. Though I also got a shudder from Ron at the reminder of his pet that used to sleep in his bed. "Crazy things happen at this school. So, don't write off last night as just some prank". I paid extra attention to their faces as I said that. If things had been happening as it had in the book, then Harry would have already heard the basilisk and he would have already told Ron and Hermione. Even though, I'm not sure how because we're pretty sure Ginny doesn't have the diary. And It's been with us, as far as we know, up until three weeks ago. So, whoever had it now must really be pouring their heart and soul into the diary. Hermione had picked up her pumpkin juice once more and was using it as an excuse to not make eye contact. Ron was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. While Harry… Harry surprised me. Instead of looking away; trying to hide something, he was studying me through the lens of his glasses like he knew that I knew things that I wasn't sharing. There was this brief moment where his searching green eyes connected with my warning brown ones, and I got this sense that he suspected that I wasn't here just to check on my little brother. Interesting. "Which means", I said as I broke eye contact with Harry. "You need to be extra careful". I turned my attention to Hermione.

Slowly, she set her goblet down again and smacked her lip before softly stating, "Because I'm a muggleborn".

"Yeah", I agreed. "I know we're Gryffindors and we like to face our own problems head-on. But the message on the wall wasn't targeting only one or two students but about….a quarter of the student body is being threatened". I guessed. I have no idea how many muggleborns attend Hogwarts or how I would even find that information. "So… I guess what I'm saying is that if we are going to survive this year, assuming last night wasn't a prank, we need to ask for help when we need it and give it to others when they need it". Did that make sense? After hearing myself say it aloud, it didn't sound very clear. But I got three solemn head nods in return, so I must have gotten something right.

"So, do you know what the chamber of secrets is?" Hermione asked.

I nodded but decided that I wasn't up for storytime. Especially because I ran the risk of slipping up and revealing more than I should. "Ask Binns", I said. "He'll know more than I do". I got up and walked away before the golden trio could demand more information from me. I got what I came for. Ron's okay and I'm about 95% positive that Harry's hearing a voice coming from the plumbing.

* * *

"Ginny doesn't have the diary", George confirmed as he and Fred joined me behind the greenhouses. Since we knew what was slithering around in the walls and under the castle, we felt a lot safer outside. And behind the greenhouses was a place that was usually only visited by lovebirds, so we felt we'd get the most privacy out here. Though we did have the map to make sure.

"At least, we don't think she does", Fred added with a shrug as he stepped over my legs to sit on my left with our backs pressed against the greenhouse's exterior wall. "When we asked her if there were hours in the day where she couldn't remember what she'd been doing, she looked at us like…. How would you describe it, George?"

"Like we were high on potion fumes", George supplied as he sat down on my right. Both their shoulders were touching mine and I suddenly felt steadier than I had since Halloween night.

"Yeah, like that", Fred agreed with George's description. "Hopefully, she doesn't write to Mum".

I snorted. "I'd love to hear the howler Mum would send you two about sniffing potions". Fred and George were not afraid to experiment and try new things. But they weren't the types to get high. With how creatively and fast their brains worked, they didn't need a substance to help stimulate them.

"Though your boyfriend wanted to know why we were asking our little sister such a weird question", George said, pronouncing the word boyfriend like it was something to be ashamed of. "He just about demanded that we not bother her when she's sitting at the Slytherin table".

Great. Hopefully, Adrian wouldn't come to me with questions about what Fred and George had been doing. "He's looking out for her", I defended. "That's a good thing. If he's watching Ginny, that's one less thing we have to worry about". When we had decided this morning that we would split up to talk to both Ron and Ginny, we were suspecting that neither Ron nor Ginny had the diary. For Ginny, with her being in a different house, it would have been hard for it to end up in her hands. And for Ron, he was more cautious about picking up ordinary-looking items than most kids. I think Dad's tales about misused muggle artifacts had really scarred him at one point. But still, we had to check. Especially when we didn't know how we lost the diary in the first place. "Ron and friends don't have it either", I reported. "But I think Harry's heard the basilisk".

"But Harry does end up with it at some point?" Fred asked.

"Yes", I answered slowly; drawing out the /s/ sound. "If we're going by Jessie's memories. But I can't remember if that happens before or after they infiltrate the Slytherin common room". But I don't think the golden trio will even use Polyjuice potion this year. Not when Harry had Sirius at home waiting to celebrate the holidays with him.

George hummed like he was coming to the conclusion of a thought before saying, "I don't think we should trust Jessie's knowledge like we did last year. We changed a lot of stuff. Who knows how that will affect things?"

I mulled over George's words. Things were already different this year than how Jessie remembered them. And there was no way to predict their outcomes. "What are we supposed to do then?" Fred asked. He sounded grumpy. But George and I both knew that he got this way when faced with a puzzle he couldn't crack. It's why we never let him try to solve the crossword in the daily prophet. Otherwise, he'd ruin his whole day.

I hunched my shoulders and rested my chin in the palm of my hand as I balanced the elbow on my knee. "I think we need to talk to Dobby". It was the only thing I could think to do. We didn't know where the diary was or how we had lost it. And as far as we know the only who know what the diary is capable of are us, Dobby, and Malfoy Sr. Dobby was unfortunately tied to Malfoy Sr, and we couldn't just owl the older Malfoy and ask him if he had somehow taken back the item he had tried to harm our sister with. So, the most logical thing would be to start with Dobby to see if he knew anything… I think.

"We will talk to Dobby", George assured.

"With luck, he'll be here next Wednesday", Fred added. "But we need to figure out what we can do right now".

I pursed my lips. Fred had a point. I suppose there is a chance that Dobby would make it to one of our Wednesday appointments. But… "He hasn't made it the last two Wednesdays", I pointed out; casting a cloud of doubt over our heads. "What if that reason is because of the diary?"

I could feel Fred and George sharing a look over my head. When you spend as much time together as we do, you start to guess each other's actions without having to see them being played out. "Holls", Fred said after a moment. "Do you have a plan?"

I exhaled loudly through my nose; not completely sure if I wanted to share what I was thinking. "How far away is the Slytherin V. Gryffindor quidditch game?"

* * *

It was a crummy day for quidditch. If it was any other quidditch match, I'd feign illness or make some other excuse to get out of going. But for this specific game; with what we had planned, I felt obligated to go. Thunder cracked across the sky as the rain-soaked the pitch and all the spectators and players. I shivered in the stands as I shoved under my armpits and ducked my chin down into the warmth of Adrian's scarf. Hopefully, this wouldn't be a very long game. But based on Jessie's memories, I had no way to judge time.

"I can't believe you _wore_ that", Ron commented from my right side; expressing himself with an air of disgust. Looking sideways at him, I raised an eyebrow. He needed to elaborate if he wanted me to understand what I had done wrong this time. "It's a Slytherin scarf", he added like I was a bit slow in the head.

"Your point?" I asked, the question coming out muffled from behind the toasty cozy scarf.

Ron huffed as he glared at me. Like he was confronting a traitor who had committed the highest form of treason. "You're a Gryffindor!" Of course, I knew why Adrian's scarf bugged him. If this was any other game than the Slytherin V. Gryffindor game, I doubted Ron would care what scarf I wore. He knew Adrian and I was dating. He was okay with me dating a Slytherin…. I think. What he wasn't okay with was me wearing green and silver on a red and gold pride day. "People are going to think you're rooting for the enemy!"

I choked on a laugh. Enemy? Good Merlin, spare from the dramatics of sports-obsessed boys. "Honestly, Ron", Hermione voiced her opinion for Ron's other side. "There's more to life than quidditch". Oh, look. Something that Hermione and I were of a similar mind about.

Ron had his mouth open, ready to prove his female friend wrong when Lee's voice echoed across the pitch and stands to announce the start of the game. "Madam Hooch has freed the snitch. The bludgers have been released, and the quaffle thrown into the air!" I forced myself to breathe as I tracked George's flying form with my eyes. The three of us had gone back and forth about how they were going to pull this off. And none of us were very pleased with the plan that we finally settled on. For one, we had to let Harry break his arm. But Fred and George insisted that we tried to make the game turn out as close to how Jessie remembered it as possible. Why would we do that when it could be over so much faster if George and Fred don't try to keep the tampered bludger away from Harry at the beginning of the game? Because Fred and George still wanted Gryffindor to win against Slytherin house. Even though the conversation we had had about this plan is in the past, I still sigh and shake my head. Boys. Sure does tell you a lot about their priorities. The second issue we had was how we were going to get one of us to spend the night in the hospital wing alongside Harry. Because that was really our end goal. Dobby hadn't shown up on Wednesday again and we knew we needed to question him about the diary. Which only left one other option. Getting to him in the hospital wing before he got to Harry. Assuming that Dobby would curse the bludger in this order of events. But in order to achieve that, one of us had to get hurt. Hurt enough that Madam Pomfrey had to keep one of us overnight. Since Fred and George were the ones with their feet off the ground, they were the most logical options. And I hated myself for thinking up this plan.

I watch as George redirects the bludger away from Harry for the first time. At the same moment, Lee announced, "Ten points to Slytherin", meaning that one of the Slytherin chasers managed to get past Wood.

"This is so unfair", Ron said as I struggled to keep my eyes only one of my loved ones. Did I watch George as he waited for the opportune moment to get taken out by a bludger? Do I watch Fred as he attempts to keep Harry safe until the very last moment? Or do I watch Adrian because the sight of him flying through the air with his rain-soaked hair was making my toes curl? I know two of my options were much clearer choices than the third. But the third option was just so…distracting. I couldn't help myself. "Everyone on the Slytherin team has a new broom. I can't believe it's allowed". Ron commented as the same bludger from before shot towards Harry again.

"Does that bludger seem off to you?" Hermione asked.

Ron, Hermione, and I watched just long enough to see Fred intercept it with his beater's bath; changing its trajectory. The bludger took off towards the Slytherin goal posts. "Nah, it's okay", Ron said. "Fred got it". Even though I could already tell that the bludger was circling back around.

Knowing that there was nothing I could do to help; I turned my eyes back onto Adrian. Just in time to see him receive a feint pass from Flint before throwing the quaffle through the middle goal post. "And Pucey just scored another ten points for Slytherin", Lee's voice announced as the Slytherins in the stand erupted into cheers. "I doubt it'll happen again. Pucey isn't-"

"Jordan", McGonagall's verbal reprimand echoed throughout the stadium.

Ron nudged me with his elbow to get my attention. When I made eye contact with him, he said in an almost reproachful voice, "Why aren't you cheering for them?"

I answered with a roll of my eyes. "Just because I want Adrian to have a good game doesn't mean I want Gryffindor to lose". My little brother sure does have a one-track mind.

Ron frowned as if he didn't believe me. He turned back to the game as he muttered under his breath, "yeah, right". And I have a compulsive need to be right?

"There it goes again!" Hermione said, in a louder voice than she had been using all game. She's pointing at a blur moving through the sky again. And it didn't take a genius to figure out what she was talking about. Fred intercepts the bludger once more before it could slam into Harry's middle. "It's definitely targeting Harry".

"Aren't bludgers supposed to do that?" I questioned. Of course, I knew more than they did. But I thought it would seem strange if I didn't say anything.

Ron shook his head, as Slytherin scored another goal. "They're supposed to charge at players at random. Not stick to one person. Think it's been rigged?" Ron asked as Slytherin scored another ten points.

"Slytherin is in the lead by thirty to zero", Lee's voice reported, sounding completely depressed.

I kept rotating my eyes in a sort of triangle; watching Adrian, to watching Fred and George. to watching Ron and Hermione. If they tried to interfere with the match before Harry broke his arm, I'd have to stop them. But I'd have to do it in a way that wouldn't raise suspicions. The match continued with Fred and George preventing the bludger from getting to Harry. Or at least that was what it looked like they were doing to everyone else. When Slytherin managed to raise the score so they were in the lead by sixty points to zero, George saw the opening he had been searching for. I forgot to breathe as I watched the scene unfold.

As the rogue bludger zoomed forward on a straight path right for Harry's back, George blocked its way by a mere second before the bludger would have passed him. When we had agreed to this stupid plan, I had told him to make sure he got hit in his legs, arms, or shoulders. With a broken bone, we'd probably be able to convince Madam Pomfrey that he needs to stay in the hospital wing overnight. Even more so if Lockhart tried to help. But it wasn't worth the risk to suffer any blows to the head or abdomen. There were magical ways to heal concussions, traumatic brain injuries, and internal breathing. However, they could still be dangerous if left undetected. Except, with the bludger tracking Harry like how a heat missile tracks a target, the bludger adjusted its course when Harry did. Shorter than a blink of an eye, the moment George got in the bludger's way was the same moment when Harry pulled his broom handle up to get higher altitude. The bludger lifted upwards before George could react. A gut-wrenching crack echoed throughout the pitch (or was that my imagination) as George meet the bludger face first. In the stands, a few girls squealed amongst a chorus of "oooh!"

The force of the impact forced George backward as the bludger continued its path, still chasing after a fleeing Harry. "Merlin, no", I whispered in horror; forcing myself to breathe. George's weight was completely thrown. He had no way to save himself as he toppled over the end of his broom. Without a rider, George's broom hovered in the air for a few seconds before cartwheeling towards the ground; free-falling like its owner. My hands slipped out from under my armpits. What do I do? I have to do something. But this… this wasn't something we prepared for.

From where the commentary was being broadcasted, Lee was in hysterics. "George Weasley is Falling! George Weasley is falling! Somebody catch him! Someone better bloody well catch him!"

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, bringing the players to a standstill. Even the bludger chasing Harry stopped; meaning Dobby must at least had the sense that bludgeoning Harry at this time wasn't optimal. Will the Slytherin players remained in one place, hoovering on their brooms as is the protocol when an emergency whistle is blown, the Gryffindor team pivoted their brooms in George's direction. Probably spurred on by Lee's plea. Fred made a frantic dive in the air. He dropped his beater's bat as he reached out with one hand to grab his identical brother, even though he was several feet away. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey was prepared. With a swish of her wand and a cry of, "Aresto Momentum", she caught George with her magic. The speed that he was falling at slowed until it looked like he was moving at the same speed that an elevator does. It was only then that I became aware of my agitated heartbeat that felt like it was straining to burst out of my chest. When George's form was eye level with where I was standing in the stands, I and everyone I was standing with got a good look at the damage. Which in this case, meant blood. Lots and lots of blood that was gushing from his nose, over his closed eyes, staining his forehead, and mixing with his hair. I stumbled backward. What, the bloody hell, had I done?

My movement seemed to spark a reaction from those around me. "Is he going to be okay?" I heard people mutter amongst themselves.

But the only thing that registered as more than a blip on my radar was when Ron grabbed my hand. Temporarily distracted from my fright and guilt, I looked down at my little brother. His face was pale and his eyes were larger than normal. Probably a reflection of my own. "Holly", he said, voice high-pitched as an expression of his terror. But what he said next, showed a more mature Ron than I had ever seen before in this life. "I'm sure George will be fine. But let's…", He paused and swallowed like he had to steel himself. "Let's go down to the pitch and check, yeah?" He didn't wait for me to respond as he pushed himself head of me, and tugged on my hand until I was following; only pausing long enough to mumble something to Hermione. Ron had… stepped up. He took leadership at a time when I was absolutely beside myself with panic. When did…. I didn't know he knew how to do that.

The game was still at a standstill by the time Ron got us onto the pitch; with the plays aloft. But Madam Hooch had finished lowering George to ground, and Madam Pomfrey was already on-site; wavering her wand over a still George from his right side. A couple of yards away lay George's forgotten broomstick. Our at least half it did. It looked like the handle had snapped in half, but I couldn't see the second half anywhere. Of course, I also wasn't looking very hard. There was only one other person next to George when Ron and I rushed onto the pitch. Fred crouched next to our triplet's head on his left, gripping George's hand in his with a grim frown detailing his face. "How bad is it?" Ron asked as soon as we were close enough. I'm a little surprised that Madam Hooch let us the field in the first place. But, I suppose, no one would be willing to begrudge George his family at this moment.

I let go of Ron's hand and sunk down to my knees next to Madam Pomfrey. Hogwarts' school healer, didn't look away from her patient as she listed off, "Broken nose, broken teeth, and likely a concussion. No bleeding in the brain." I think she was talking more to herself than us because a list of injuries wasn't something you shared with other students, family, or not.

"And a bruised pride", an almost incomprehensible voice chimed in. My focus snapped up to George's face. While still covered in blood, I could see his brown pupils peaking out from under swollen eyelids. "A beater getting bested by a bludger, unforgivable". Thanks to my limited medical knowledge, I knew George being awake and talking was a good sign. But while my panic subsided, my guilt raised tenfold. How the hell was he able to find humor in this situation? He just got his face broken because of my suicidal plan! He should be cursing my name right now. Not making jokes!

"Be still, ", Madam Pomfrey ordered as she worked. This whole time, Fred didn't say a word. Nor did he look away from George's face. Not until Madam Hooch approached.

"Do you need anything, Poppy?" She asked.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "I need to get him to the hospital wing, but I can manage just fine on my own".

Madam Hooch nodded and moved until she was standing next to Fred. "Go to you captain", she told him as Madam Pomfrey stood up and casted a levitation charm on George. "There will be a time-out before we resume play". George was lifted gently into the air, his quidditch robes trailing on the grass as he was moved. "That is if you still want to play", Madam Hooch finished talking to Fred. Fred was tracking George with his eyes, but he must have heard her because he nodded before turning to me.

"Stay with him?" He asked. I nodded. At that moment, I'd had done just about anything either he or George asked of me. Fred started to head in the direction of where Wood was still hovering in front of the goalposts.

Something heavy was sitting in my gut as I watched Fred walk away. I needed to say something to him. Something that accepted my responsibility in this matter, but I had no idea what. Instead, I turned to keep up with George. I could at least keep him company in the hospital wing and apologize. But George had other ideas. "Wait", he said, causing Pomfrey. I stepped closer so George could see me before he said. "Holly, can you stay and wait for Fred? Ron can come with me", he said gesturing to our little brother who was hovering close by. "I don't want him to finish the game alone". That's was what he said, but what I think he was trying to tell me without giving us away was, 'stick to the plan'.

Hang the stupid plan, I thought. But I nodded, voice failing me. I guess since I'm the one who came up with this foolish idea, I have to see it through to its awful end. Hopefully... hopefully, Fred wouldn't be mad.

* * *

"The Gryffindor team has decided to continue playing despite being a beater short", Lee announced to the entire pitch as Madam Hooch got into position to restart the match.

I had moved to the opening that leads to Gryffindor's locker room to watch the match from there. Hopefully, it wouldn't last much longer. During the impromptu time-out, the pieces of George's broomstick were collected and the two teams landed and huddled for quick strategy discussions. Now, as they took to the air once more, I started to shake. For this part of the plan, Fred would not intervene with Harry and the rogue bludger. Giving Harry the space he needed to find the snitch and win the match, but also to allow the bludger to break Harry's arm. Madam hooch threw the quaffle and the game resumed. Adrian got to it first. He snatched the quaffle out of the air just as Alicia reached for it. As soon as the Hooch had given the go-ahead, the same bludger from before through the sky as it trailed after Gryffindor's youngest quidditch team member. Harry flew like a bat out of hell. Zig-zagging like pinball, going up and down like a roller-coaster, and twirling in circles like he was riding a bull in a rodeo. It was an amazing thing to watch. And under any other circumstance, I would have admired Harry's flying ability.

Harry ended up dashing in front of Adrian as he led the bludger away from the other players? Why had he'd gotten that close in the first place? Had he seen the snitch? But it forced Adrian to quickly pull his broom to a halt to avoid colliding with Harry. Giving Angelina the opportunity to fly up, knock the quaffle out of Adrian's grip, and zoom off towards Slytherin's goalposts without Adrian being able to do anything about it. Losing the quaffle didn't seem to bug him. Even though, it led to Flint shouting something at him as he passed by. All Adrian did was stay still, eyes tracking either Harry or the bludger. It was unclear from where I was standing. "Ten points to Gryffindor", Lee announced after Angelina secured Gryffindor's first goal of the game.

Harry had his arm stretched out in front of him with Malfoy riding tail. He's definitely spotted the snitch them. Still, why was Adrian just hovering in the middle of the pitch; watching?

The bludger came out of the left field. Barreling straight into Harry's arm. For the second time that day, the crowd erupted with, "oooh!" But Harry's injured wasn't as debilitating as George's had been. He barely paused, as he pulled his now useless arm close to his body; steering his broom with one hand. Still, he persevered after the snitch. The bludger turned until it was on Harry's trail once more. Malfoy briefly pulled in front of Harry, but with the bludger so close, he soon lost his never and pulled up and away from the line of danger.

As if coming to a decision, Adrian leaned forward until he was lying flat on his broomstick handle. He shot off in the direction of Harry and the bludger. What was he doing? Meanwhile, Harry had lowered himself a little closer to the ground. He scooted forward on his broomstick, but only a little so he wouldn't mess up his balance. He reached out with his good arm; now only steering his broom with his thighs. I blinked once, and Harry was tumbled towards the ground now off his broom with his fist clasped around something. This must be the end! The bludger zoomed in his direction. Without a broom, Harry was alarmingly vulnerable. Hadn't he been inches from the ground when this had happened in the book? Or was that the movie?

Just like with George, Harry's fall was slowed. Unlike with George, Harry's fall wasn't slowed by magic. A hand reached out and grabbed Harry by the neck of his quidditch robes. Adrian! He had left the game in order to help the boy he had gotten to know a little over the summer. Adrian, still laying flat on his broomstick and with his face twitching from the strain of trying to hold onto Harry with one hand, started to lower his new nimbus 2001 towards the ground. "Potter got the Snitch!" Lee's voice roared throughout the snitch. Though he didn't seem to know what to say about the Slytherin helping Harry, because he didn't comment on that part.

However; with everything that Adrian was trying to do, he couldn't fly fast enough. His path intercepted with the bludger. My heart leaped into my throat, and for the second time that day, I forgot how to breathe. "oooh!" The crowd erupted again as the bludger smacked into Adrian's unprotected side.

No!

Adrian fell sideways off his broom, never relishing his grip on Harry.

No!

Harry hit the ground first, body curling around his broken arm as he bounced a little on impact. Adrian followed a second later. He landed on his back in a crumpled heap about a foot away from Harry. But unlike Harry, he didn't bounce. The only thing he did was let go of Harry's robes.

He wasn't supposed to have any part of this! I yelled in my head. Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Except for this time, the bludger didn't stop. Somehow, I found myself running onto the pitch; my wand pulled from my pocket and clenched in my hand. Why had he…. Why had Adrian gotten involved? He was playing on the opposite team! He should have been fine! The bludger shot high into the air before it rushing towards the boys lying on the ground. A quick spell for Madam Hooch, I'm assuming, stopped it from doing any more damage.

"Adrian!" I screeched once I reached his side; throwing myself to the ground with my back facing Harry so I could get close to him as quickly as possible. His chest was heaving as he lay still; legs pulled up slightly and his right hand pressed against his side. But no matter how much he heaved he seemed unable to draw breath. Did he get the wind knocked out of him? At least he was awake. I knew he was when his grey eyes locked with mine. "What hurts? Is it your ribs?" I demanded to know, even though I knew deep down that he wouldn't be able to answer until he could draw breath again.

A crowd started to form around Adrian, Harry, and I as others came to the boys' aid. "Way to go, Harry!" I heard someone exclaim.

Adrian's teammates surrounded him. But they weren't paying me attention, so I didn't feel the need to do the same for them. "What the hell were you thinking, Pucey?" I heard someone ask; Flint, I think. "Why would you try to help Potter of all people?"

He received no answer. Mostly because Adrian was currently unable too, and because I was too busy trying to see if Adrian had any hidden injuries to yell at Flint to shut up. "What about your toes or fingertips?" I asked, leaning over my boyfriend. What if he had hurt his spine? "Can you feel them? Can you wiggle them?"

"Not to worry Harry", I heard from behind me. "I'll fix your arm. It'll be as good as new in a jiffy". That could only be Lockhart, I noted in the back of my head. That meant that despite all of the casualties, the plan was still playing out as we wanted. And I hated myself for it.

"No. Anyone but you", I heard Harry say.

Adrian made one last heave before his lungs finally started to take in air. He coughed a little as his body got used to receiving oxygen again. He flinched as each cough aggravated his injured side. Ribs. It had to be his ribs that got damaged. Oh, Merlin! What if he had punctured a lung? "Poor boy doesn't know what he's saying", Lockhart said with a laugh. As if laughing was appropriate in this situation.

With the hand that wasn't pressed against his side, Adrian reached up towards me. His hand slipped under my hair and rested against my cheek. "You're wearing my scarf". His voice came out hoarsely.

"Brackium Emendo", Lockhart said, dramatically rolling the R.

"You're pretty when you're worried", Adrian said in the same hoarse voice. Acting like he was completely unaware of everyone and everything surrounding us. He was talking like it was just us back in his family's garden; staring up at the stars. "Did you know that?"

"Ugh Gross", a bunch of different people exclaimed from behind me. At Harry's rubber arm; I'm assuming. I'm… pretty?... What?

"Adrian, did you hit your head?" I asked slowly.

"Ah, yes", Lockhart said. "That can happen. But at least Mr. Potter doesn't have any broken bones".

"He doesn't have bones in that arm at all anymore", Someone commented.

Adrian's hand withdrew from my cheek. "I'll be okay", he said. His voice was less hoarse know that he had used it a couple of times. But he still spoke carefully, like it hurt to make even the smallest sounds.

A shadow loomed over Adrian and me. At first, I didn't think about it. Harry had already lost the bones in his arm. The second part of our plan was done. We'd have to wait until tonight before the third part of our plan could be carried out. So, I thought it was just Fred; waiting for when we could go check on George. But then I heard Lockhart, "Another quidditch injury. Allow me to offer my assistance here as well".

My eyes widened and something in me snapped. No. Absolutely not! The bones in an arm were one thing. But a ribcage was entirely different. If Lockhart vanished Adrian's ribcage there would be nothing to protect his organs from being jarred. There wouldn't be space for his lung to expand while inhaling. Twisting my torso from where I sat next to Adrian's side, I raised my wand. Pointing it and aiming for the spot between Lockhart's eyes. "Don't even think about it", I threatened; my voice coming out darker than I had ever heard it before as I felt my magical energy build up. It was already bad enough that George took a bludger to the face for us to try to figure out what happened to the diary. It was bad enough that we couldn't prevent Harry from having to have his bones regrown. It was bad enough that Adrian had gotten hurt in the crossfires. But no way in wizard hell was I going to let Lockhart accidentally kill my boyfriend. "If you even so much as move your wand around Adrian, I'll show you exactly what it feels like to not have any bones. And it wouldn't just be your arm."


	53. Aftermath

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Aftermath

There were a few tense and dramatic seconds where time seemed to have halted and it was just me pointing my wand at Lockhart. At least it had stopped raining. Otherwise, that would have made everything even more thematic. Everything else faded into the background; Adrian calling my name in worry, the crowd of people, including Fred, escorting Harry to the hospital wing, and the Slytherin quidditch team standing behind me. That is until they all started uproariously laughing. Like a group of fraternity brothers embarking on a pub crawl. While I didn't turn around to look at them, their amusement weakened my resolve. My elbow loosened and my magic calmed, but I didn't lower my wand. Lockhart gawked at me; mouth hanging open. As if no one had ever dared to point their wands at him before. "M-miss Weasley", he finally forced out in a stutter; placing both of his hands on his hips, elbows sticking out in false bravado. "This mistrust is completely unfounded". One of the quidditch players behind me snorted; not even trying to be discreet. Lockhart said all that like he hadn't just deboned Harry's arm. A true daydreamer, this one.

I didn't get the chance to retort or even think about my next move. Threatening members of staff with magical assault was a new experience for me and I hadn't planned any of this out beforehand. Madam Hooch bustled over with an expression that suggested just how done she was with today. "Wand away, Weasley", she barked as she pushed past Lockhart "No one will be vanishing any more bones today", she said with a glare to her fellow instructor as she came closer; stopping once she was looming over me and Adrian. "Right, Pucey. You took a bludger to the ribs. Try not to move", Hooch took control, sprouting out orders and unwavering expectations like a drill sergeant. She pulled out her own wand as I stood up, and stepped away from Adrian, even though that was a hard thing to do. Because of my stupid plan, George and gotten purposely hurt, and Adrian accidentally hurt. And there was little I could do to lessen the damage. As guilt swirled around in my gut, I lowered my wand and placed it back into my robe pocket. "I'm going to levitate Mr. Pucey to the hospital wing", Hooch called over her shoulder to Lockhart. "If you want to help, clear the way". And just like that, with Lockhart was occupied and Adrian was in safe hands being escorted off the pitch, a crisis was averted. Leaving me alone with turbulent thoughts and my boyfriend's teammates…. Bloody perfect.

As if they were scavengers, I soon found myself surrounded; Flint flanking my right and Montague my left. Lovely. "Out of curiosity", Flint started to say; his voice sounding far more cordial than I have ever heard from him before. "What were you planning to do?"

I could feel all their eyes focused on me. Quickly, I scanned the pitch only for the horrifying realization to sink in that we were its last occupants. The pitch had cleared out with the injured. There were still a few stragglers in the stands, but little good that would do me. I was a little bit surprised that Fred had left without me, but not for long. George would have been at the forefront of his every thought. George should have been my first priority too. I forced myself to take a breath. Whatever this was, Flint probably saw it as a game of wits and wills. Rattled nerves wouldn't help me win. I tilted my head to the right until I locked eyes with the Slytherin quidditch captain. Briefly, we studied each other. Flint's smiling, giving me a good look at his crooked yellowed teeth. I pulled my lips back into a smile of my own. Though it probably came off more like a wince. I asked, "Would you like me to show you?"

Flint's smile grew into a grin as he huffed a laugh; encouraging the rest of his team to chuckle along with him. "Play nice, Weasley", he said, holding his arm out to me like he wanted me to take it. I didn't move as I eyed his arm in suspicion. It was the same gesture Adrian would make when we were out walking. But it sure didn't feel the same. "We only want to study your…." Flint paused as if the word he was searching escaped him. "What would you call it, Montague?"

I turned my head just in time to see the boy on my left shrug. "Moxie", he suggested; voice coming out surprisingly deep.

"Yeah", Flint agreed as I turned back to him. "That's a good word. Moxie", he gestured his held-out arm to me again in offer. "Shall we escort you to the hospital wing?"

I didn't even have to think. "No thank you", I said, already walking away in the direction of the castle. While I was heading to the hospital wing to check on George, Harry, and Adrian, the last thing I needed was some nasty rumor spreading around that I was romancing all the members of the Slytherin quidditch team.

But I only made it a couple of steps before a hand grabbing my elbow halted me. "I have to insist, Weasley". Flint said as he stepped forward; the rest of his team following. Though he did let go of my arm once we were standing shoulder to shoulder again. "The majority of the school, although distracted by Potter, just saw you run to the aid of a Slytherin. You sure you want to be walking around the castle alone right now?" The question was rhetorical as evident when Flint and Montague started walking, leading their group forward. Their teammates pressing onward behind me forced me to fall into step.

Deciding not to be put out about not being able to separate from the Slytherin team, I decided to answer Flint. "I'm a Gryffindor with brothers who have a vengeful streak", I said as we left the pitch. In the distance, I could see some students making their way back up to the castle. But there was no one behind us. "It's safer for me to walk around alone than most". Of course, that's not taking into account the giant monster traveling through the pipes.

Flint shrugged as if that wasn't a good enough reason for me to excuse his out of character chivalry. Flint wanted something. I just had no clue what that was. We continued the trek up to the castle in silence. Years of living in the middle of Slytherin/ Gryffindor tension made me uncomfortably aware of the Slytherins walking behind me, and it bugged me that I didn't know who was where. I just knew that two of the people I couldn't see were Malfoy and Warrington. As a second-year, Malfoy wasn't much of a threat yet. He was still waddling through his whiny git phase. But I knew what his late teenage years might be like and that knowledge made him someone that I didn't want near my back. And Warrington, well, Warrington has a reputation of being a brute. Even the girls of his house steered clear. I thought about running. It'd probably be unexpected enough that I would get a head start. Might even be comical if I just suddenly bolted. But stubbornness kept my pace casual. Whatever this was, I didn't want to come out the other side appearing weak.

When we drew closer to the castle's entrance, Flint ordered, "Malfoy, get the door". I waited for Malfoy to snap back with some comment about how he wouldn't do a servant's job. But there was none. Instead, Malfoy jogged past the rest of the team to get in the lead; arm extended to grab the door handle. My eyes flickered to Flint in shock as the door's hinges creaked open. How did he get Malfoy to be so well trained? Feeling my eyes on him, Flint looked in my direction and he offered me another crooked smile. At that moment, both my fear and respect for Flint increased. Meaning that I actually had some. "That's a nice scarf you have, Weasley", Flint said as we started to cross the threshold into the entrance hall.

"Thanks", I answered; keeping my voice flat. "I'll let Adrian know you like it". Maybe Ron was right. Maybe I shouldn't be walking around in Slytherin colors.

Not everyone seemed to agree with Flint's compliment. Or at least, the one person in the group too young to read into the hidden context. "Red clashes with green", Malfoy spoke up as we passed him; his face twisted into a sneer. "A Gryffindor will never look good in our colors".

Even though we were already passed Malfoy and were still moving forward, I gave a retort without really having to think. "I think it's funny that some think Gryffindor and Slytherin colors clash". I wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, as Flint and Montague started leading the way up the grand staircase. But I was confident that I had a whole quidditch team listening to me. From behind, I heard the door close and assumed Malfoy caught up. "Especially when red and green are always paired together at Christmas time".

A comparison that would have made my brothers snort and reply with sarcasm was met with silence from the Slytherins. All except for a snort from Flint. "You have wit, Weasley. I've never noticed before", he said as we ascended past the first floor. I thought about how inconvenient it was to have the hospital wing located so high up in the school. And I thought about how I had never wanted Flint to notice anything about me as he continued to speak. "Your knit-wit look-alike brothers always speak for you. It's surprising to know you have thoughts of your own". A compliment with an insult laced in, I think as we passed other students. At least indoors there were more students nearby. "Makes me wonder why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw", Flint said in an off-handed manner; ignoring the curious looks we were getting from members of the student body.

I waited until we moved beyond the third-floor landing before saying anything. Tact and waiting for the opportune moments are not ways I usually use to solve problems or win games. But with Flint and company, I felt they were needed. "People really don't know a lot about the sorting hat". I said as we climbed more stairs. The hospital wing wasn't far away now. "We don't really know how it works. And people just trust that it will place them in the house that best fits them. They don't wonder what would happen if they tell the sorting hat what house they want". I paused to let the implication that I had done what I had just said sink in. Of course, I hadn't. At least, not on purpose. As an eleven-year-old entering Hogwarts, strategizing for the future hadn't come close to breaching my thoughts. The night of my sorting, I had been terrified about being away from the burrow, daunted about what I knew the future held, and anxious about the possibility of being separated from Fred and George. That night the only thing I had been capable of thinking about was getting back to the accustomed safety of my brothers. But Flint and the other Slytherins didn't need to know that.

"It that's true, Weasley", Flint said as we climbed our last step and the hospital wing's open doors came into view. "What house did the hat consider for you?"

Already seeing the Gryffindor quidditch team surrounding two beds, it was more of a struggle to actually respond to Flint. Especially with my fellow triplets so close. But I was old now. While I still needed their support, I didn't need to hide behind Fred and George anymore. I haven't needed that for a while now. "I'll leave that to your imagination", I said before finally stepping away from the Slytherin team and approaching the homey sight of red and gold.

* * *

Wood, Alicia, and Katie were standing around Harry's hospital bed as Madam Pomfrey bustled about his bedsides, muttering under her breath how much a health hazard quidditch was. That left Fred and Angelina to visit George, making it easy for me to find a place close to George's side. Hooch and Lockhart had already dropped Adrian off and left, as I could see him lying in a bed on the other side of the wing, but could not see Hooch or Lockhart. I wanted to check in on Adrian too. I would need to before the day was over. But right now, Flint and the rest of his team was approaching Adrian's bedside, and I wasn't in a hurry to have another tête-à-tête with the Slytherin quidditch captain.

With Angelina on my left and Fred on the other side, I sat down on the edge of George's bed. "H-how do you feel?" I asked; voice wavering as my guilt surged. The blood had been cleaned off his face. There were still bruises, but the swelling around his eyes had gone down. Through magical means, I'm assuming.

"Hungry", George answered in his normal voice. His answer made me flinch. My eyes started to sting, and I curled into fists. Couldn't he have the common decency o just be mad at me about concocting a plan that jeopardized his wellbeing? "Madam Pomfrey was going to bring me food. Tomato soup and a cheese toastie. But they Harry and Pucey were dropped off, and she-" George cut himself off. "Jolly Holly, don't cry". His eye flickered to Angelina. And he was right of course, we couldn't let on that this was anything more than a quidditch accident.

"I'm not crying".

Fred leaned over George as if he wanted to get a better look at me. "Not yet, but it looks like you could start any minute", he said. But unlike George, he wasn't using his normal voice. His tone was too terse, and vowels too carefully pronounced.

The back of my throat was starting to feel dry and raw when I said, "I'm not going to cry".

"It's okay", Angelina spoke up. She was standing next to George's head but her eyes were fixed on Fred. "Fred shed a few tears when we first got here", she said as she crossed her arms her chest with a smile that was searching for humor but failing.

"No, I didn't", Fred immediately denied. "There was dirt in my eye".

"Uh-huh", Angelina vocalized in clear disbelief.

Fred opened his mouth to deny the acquisition again, but George beat him to it. "It's okay Fred. I'd cry to if I had to wake up to your sorry mug every day".

I closed my eyes. An appearance joke. An identical brother joke. Now? After getting his face pummeled in due to my stupid plan? But it reached its attended audience. Angelina let on a single laugh behind closed lips. In the same moment, Madam Pomfrey declared, "I can mend bones in a heartbeat, but growing them back-"

"I'm glad you're doing okay, George", Angelina said as I opened my eyes. "I'm going to check on Potter". And she walked away to the other hospital bed being occupied by a Gryffindor.

"You weren't supposed to get hit in the head", I whispered as soon as it was only Fred and I focusing on George.

"Holls-" George tried to interject.

I spoke faster. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- shouldn't have come up with such a-"

"Holls," George tried again. This time reaching out to cover the back of my hand with one of his. "I agreed to do this", he whispered; eyes flickering back and forth from Fred and me. "We knew it was risky. And Madam Pomfrey said I'll be fine. Even if I don't get my cheese toastie". My shoulders shook with a hysterical chuckle that I refused to let out. A part of me wanted to jump up and run to the kitchens to get George his bloody cheese toastie. But I also knew that he wasn't being serious about that part. "So, the both of you", George addressed us together. "Can stop acting like I'm on my last leg". George squeezed my hand and didn't lessen his grip until I nodded. Fred gave his own silent assent.

Behind him, there was a loud spluttering sound followed by Madam Pomfrey exclaiming, "well, what did you expect? Pumpkin Juice!"

"Go", George said to Fred and me while everyone was distracted by the fascinating process of regrowing bones. "We better rest when we can. I'll see you tonight", George said as he confirmed our plans. Yes, the first horrendous part of my stupid idea was over. Now, we just had to talk to Dobby.

Fred nodded again, only this time it came off as more solemn. Nothing at all like his usual self. George took his hand off mine before I stood up. "If Pomfrey doesn't deliver on that cheese toastie, we'll visit the kitchens tomorrow", I promised.

George smiled. "Counting on it".

Both Fred and I moved away from George's bed and came to stand shoulder to shoulder in the aisle between the two rows of beds. We both started forward, heading for the doors. But when we were halfway to exiting, I shook my head. Placing a hand on Fred's upper arm, I stopped him. "Wait a moment", I asked before turning around before Fred could give me an answer. Knowing fully well that both of my fellow triplets were tracing my steps with their eyes, I made a beeline for Adrian and his team of visitors. All their heads were bent together surrounding Adrian's bedside. And whatever they were discussing must have been private because they fell silent as soon as I had pushed Malfoy and Montague out of my way. I ignored the lot of them as I sat down on the edge of Adrian's bed; just as I had done with George. "You good?" I asked once steely grey eyes connected with my brown ones.

Adrian nodded, though he was still holding himself in a stiff and still posture. "Madam Pomfrey said I'll be fully mended by morning".

My heart calmed. "Alright, If I don't see you at breakfast I'll come visit later tomorrow". I said as I stood up slowly. I didn't want to leave. But George was right. We needed to prepare for tonight, and I knew that Fred and I needed to talk. But I paused for a moment as a thousand different thoughts and desires bombarded me. My conversation with Flint rolled around in my head. And knowing that he and the entirety of the Slytherin quidditch team were watching me, as well as my brothers. And knowing that Adrian had already staked some sort of claim on me before, I decided it was time for me to make my own claim. Even though I knew Adrian wouldn't approve of me using our relationship to make some sort of power play. With my left hand, I tucked some hair behind my left ear before leaning over Adrian. I kept my eyes locked with his as I leaned closer and closer. I felt like I was moving slowly. So slowly that I was making this awkward. But I knew, in reality, I was moving faster than I was perceiving. Tilting my head just slightly, I pressed my lips against his. Adrian twitched against the contact but didn't turn away. It was our first kiss, but it didn't feel like one. It didn't taste like one. First kisses were generally short, innocent, and cautious as there was often fear of rejection or failure laced in. But for this kiss, I used all the knowledge I had from Jessie's romantic endeavors to make it appear long, heavy, and confident. And while I truly felt the intensity of affection that I was trying to convey, when I pulled away and turned to make my way back to Fred, I looked directly at Flint with a hard gaze. I wanted to make it clear. I was still trying to work out exactly what Flint had wanted to gain while talking with me, but it was important to me that he knows that while I am dating a Slytherin, I am not dating Slytherin. The only loyalties I have to the green and silver house are through Adrian. Every other snake had no claim to them.

When I broke eye contact with Flint, Fred's eyes immediately found mine. He had his eyebrows raised as if he was asking me, 'really?' I shook my head at him as we started for the exit again, standing shoulder to shoulder. With my hand shaking ever so slightly from all the different emotions I've felt today, I grabbed Fred's hand; seeking an anchor. "So, why did you come here with the Slytherin team?" Fred asked as we stepped out from the hospital wing.

I puffed my cheeks up with air before releasing it with a sigh. "It's a mystery to me".


	54. The Rogue House-elf

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Rogue House-elf

"I'm sorry", I said.

At the same moment, Fred blurted out, "We should stop".

We were standing in an unused classroom not far from the hospital wing. It was the room we had decided on before the Slytherin V. Gryffindor quidditch game. The one that George would hopefully be bringing Dobby to later tonight. This meant, that before Fred and I could take George's advice and rest up, we had to get it ready. Mostly by soundproofing the room with some silencing charms. It would also be wise if we could do something to prevent Dobby from disapparating. But we didn't know how to do that, so we just had to have faith that Dobby wouldn't be too elusive. However, preparing the room also gave us time to speak what had been left unsaid. That was Fred for you. He was never one to leave things unspoken and allow feelings to fester. But what he just said wasn't making a lot of sense to me.

"What?" we both ask at the same time. Apparently, I wasn't making sense either.

"Stop what?" I asked.

"What are you sorry for?" Fred asked. We were never going to get anywhere at this rate. Fred shook his head as if he was trying to get himself to refocused, and I choose to remain silent. Fred can go first. I own him much more than that consideration. Fred sighed before locking eyes with me. "I think that after we do what we can about the diary, we should stop trying to change things." Fred pressed his lips together and looked away from me as if there was a disagreeable taste on his tongue. "We did good getting Scabbers out of our house and proving Black innocent. M-maybe that will be enough. And we can't just- just forget about the diary. Not when we don't know who has it. But after this, we need to stop. Let things happen as they're supposed to".

Um….. What? My brain scrambled to make out some sort of logic in Fred's words. If we did nothing moving forward, then we ran the risk of Fred dying. Of course, we had already changed a few things…. But were we willing to take that gamble? "Fred, I know it was a stupid plan. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have suggested that George should get purposely injured by that bludger. If I could take it back, I would". I spoke quietly, with my voice unintentionally rising in pitch at the end. My eyes were stinging again, and I started to blink more than usual. Why was I so stupid?

"It's not your fault", Fred said sounding a bit breathless, like he was holding back air. He looked back up, eyes glistening. "I shouldn't have – have let him do it. Hell, I should have been the one to get hit". When in the initial stages of planning, there had been a discussion about who should get in the middle of the bludger's path. And the final decision had been based on George's argument that the reason we were sticking our necks out and interacting with dark objects, was because we wanted to do everything, we could do to prevent the war. Because if we prevent the war, there would be no death eater to save Percy from and no collapsing wall to kill Fred. Fred reaching his golden years was our end goal, so it didn't make sense to risk his safety. Though, now as I think about it after the fact, George's argument had been weak. Merlin, why was I so stupid?

"It is my fault". My voice broke and with it the dam that was holding back the waterworks. "We shouldn't be making any plans that take on unnecessary risk", I forced out between sobs as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "Everything is my fault. Every change. Every challenge". If I hadn't told them about the diary... If I hadn't opened my mouth and told them about Jessie's memories, Fred and George would have spent their whole school career free and unburdened to terrorize the staff, make people laugh, and come up with ideas that would later fill their joke shop. At least, until Umbridge made an appearance. And I… I should have done what I could alone. Without involving my loved ones. If I failed, then all I had to do was make sure it was me that pushed Percy out of the way during the final battle at Hogwarts. Holly Weasley wasn't in the books. I was expendable. "I should have never pulled you and George into this… this madness". But I had done so because I was too scared to face the future alone. I wasn't smart enough to find solutions to problems on my own. And because I wanted to believe that I to could have a long and happy life here. That I belonged here.

"Merlin, Holls!" Fred exclaimed in hysterics; water streaming down his cheeks too. I guess it was a good thing we had finished putting up those silencing charms before we started talking. "The things you knew", Fred said as he moved into touching distance. "I can't… I don't want you to", Fred tried to express whatever he was thinking. But when his words fell short, Fred reached out with both arms and pulled me into a tight hug; one that restricted movement. His arms wrapped around my shoulders and I ended up with my face being pushed into his shoulder. Fred was still wearing his quidditch robes and he smelled sweaty. But at that moment, I didn't mind. "You had to tell us. You were miserable keeping all that a secret. It was too much for one person".

It was validating to hear Fred say that. But it wasn't enough to absolve me of guilt. Reaching my arms around Fred, I hugged his middle. "I'm sorry!" I sobbed. "I don't know what's the right thing to do."

Fred let out one loud sob of his own; so strong that his body shuddered. "I don't want anyone to die for me", he declared. "Especially not George". His grip tightened. "What if I'm meant to die?" My grip tightened. "What if everyone thing we've done or can do doesn't matter? And I still end up dead, but more people died along the way? People that originally survived". His voice was wet as he listed off names. "Mum, Ron, Lee…. Let's just… Let's just stop".

There was nothing I could say to that. Not when I couldn't assure that no one would be caught in the crossfire as we tried to prevent a war and stop an extremely dark wizard from reviving. So, we just stood there, in the middle of an unused dusty old classroom; hugging each other and sobbing our hearts dry. That is until someone opened the door. "There you two are", a familiar voice said with an exasperated sigh. "I've been looking all over the place". I'm not sure how he found us, or how he thought to look in abandoned classrooms, but I was happy that he was here. Fred and I let each other go, and I turned around to look at Percy. He was standing in the doorway of the classroom, adjusting his glasses as is his habit. At the sight of our tearstained and probably red faces, Percy inhaled and exhaled loudly from his nose. "Now look", he said in a voice that I know he thinks sounds sympathetic. "I know you three hate being separated and any time apart is like the end of the world. Especially when one of you is hurt. But there's really no need for this". Percy waved a hand at us, probably in a gesture to our disheveled, depressing appearances. "Madam Pomfrey said that George will be fine and he only has to stay in the hospital wing for-" Percy got caught off when I lunged forward and flung my arms over his shoulders with a small jump. Forced to brace my weight, Percy took a small step backward with an 'oomph' sound as his arms wrapped around my upper back to steady us both. "Holly!" He complained. But when I started crying anew into his chest, Percy decided to change tactics. "Um…." He said, at first weakly. "There, there". Rhythmically, he patted me on the back, in between my shoulder blades. His voice softened; morphed into a tone that he had reserved just for pets and distraught younger siblings. "George is going to be perfectly alright".

And since I couldn't tell Percy what was going on; what we were up to, I wailed, "I hate quidditch".

Fred wasn't far behind. Before Percy could reply to my admission, Fred was engulfing the both of us; forming a Weasley sandwich. I can't remember the last time Percy was a part of a Weasley sandwich. "We need George!" Fred cried. "He's the common-sense part of our brain". Despite Fred's weird wording, that was actually true. George was the only person who could talk us down after Fred and I got carried away by an exciting idea or a strong emotion.

"Merlin, help me", Percy muttered to himself, but he didn't try to pull away from either of us. "Listen to me", he said sternly. "You triplets do not share a brain. And just because something happens to one of you doesn't mean it's going to happen to all of you". I get that Percy felt that that needed to be stated. But he was misreading the sentiment.

Once Percy deemed that Fred and I were soothed enough to face the halls of Hogwarts, he dislodged himself from our Weasley sandwich. He made us dry our eyes with his handkerchief as he expressed how unprepared it was of us to not have handkerchiefs of our own. Then Percy led us out of the classroom, through the halls, and into the Gryffindor common room. Our housemates weren't having the usual quidditch-victory after party. It wouldn't have been right, not when one of our beaters and our seeker had sustained hospitalizing injuries. Before anyone could approach Fred to talk to him about the match, Percy told the both of us to turn in for an early night. We didn't argue. And Percy didn't comment when I followed Fred up the stairs to the boys' dorms. Which suggests just how concerned Percy was for our emotional states.

Although we knew that we wouldn't be staying in bed, we saw no point in being uncomfortable. Fred went to the bathroom to shower and change, while I found a pair of George's pajamas to change into. I had to roll up the pant legs to make them fit, but this was something I was used to doing. Once Fred was out of the shower, we climbed into his bed and drew the curtains. Sleeping would have been the wise thing to do. But instead, we laid awake, staring up at the ceiling; thinking about everything we had said and waiting for when we would have to go back to the unused classroom by the hospital wing.

* * *

After midnight, we snuck back downstairs. All other Gryffindors had retired, and we had no problem slipping out of the entrance behind the portrait. The Marauders' map made sure we had no encounters with ghosts, teachers, or Filch as made our way through the halls. Once we got back to the unused classroom, all we had to do was wait. So, we sat down on the cold stone floor; facing the door with our shoulders pressed together. Fred folded the map and put it inside his pajama bottoms' pocket. We wouldn't need it again until we made the trip back to the common room. "After tonight we'll talk to George about stopping?" Fred asked.

I nodded, even though Fred wasn't looking at me. We were both watching the door. "Yeah", I agreed, but I knew I wouldn't be taking Fred's side. "We'll figure something out".

That response wasn't good enough for Fred. "I won't let someone die for me", he said with resolve.

I breathed deeply through my nose. And I'm not going to let you die, I thought. I'm not going to let any Weasley die. "I know", I placated before we fell into silence.

We sat there for probably another fifteen minutes before. We couldn't hear anyone approach due to the silencing charms we had placed on the classroom earlier that day. But we knew we were in business when the door started to creak open. "Dobby is sorry he gave you cause to fear", We heard Dobby say in his high-pitched voice as George started sliding into the room. He was wearing the blue pinstriped pajamas that you are given when you stay overnight in the hospital wing. One arm was hanging at his side with the other was holding onto Dobby's upper arm. Dobby came through the door next. "And Dobby wasn't trying to kill Harry Potter. Just seriously maim him so he would have to go home". Fred and I started to stand up, and I pulled out my wand. As soon as the door closed behind them, I would lock it. We weren't foolish enough to believe a locked door would be enough to keep a house-elf contained if he didn't want to be here. Locking the door was more of a way to keep someone from stumbling upon us. Like Percy had done earlier. Except, George and Dobby weren't alone. After the house-elf, a third person entered the classroom. Like George, he was wearing pinstriped pajamas and was holding onto one of Dobby's arms. The other arm was carefully braced in a sling.

"What's Harry doing here?" I asked as Fred and I finished standing up and the door shut behind them. It was enough of a surprise that I wasn't panicking yet, but judging how my heartbeat sped up, I wasn't far from that point. Why can't one thing go right in this plan? I asked myself as the door shut behind them. If this wasn't a turn of events, I don't know what is.

"He woke up when I was wrestling with Dobby", George said as he and Harry let go of Dobby's arms. Dobby wrapped his arms around himself and took a step away from the boys with his ears lying limp on top of his head. "I didn't have an excuse about why I was trying to kidnap a house-elf or why there was even a house-elf in the hospital wing to begin with".

I shook my head; cursing our luck as I waved my wand. "Colloportus", I said to magically lock the door.

"So, you brought Harry with you?" Fred asked, voice slightly incredulous. I understood where he was coming from. With all the stunts we pull off at the burrow where Mum is always suspicious and Ron and Ginny are always underfoot, Fred and George were masters at coming up with deceptions on the sly.

"What was I supposed to do?" George defended himself. "If I'd stayed any longer, Pucey could've woken up or Pomfrey. That would have been worse". And George was right. I didn't want Adrian anywhere near this mess, and Madam Pomfrey would never have let George or Harry leave the hospital wing while under her care. And that's without considering how George could explain why he was manhandling a house-elf in the middle of the night.

"How much did you tell him?" Fred asked, referring to Harry.

George opened his mouth to respond, but Harry beat him to it. "Nothing", the second-year answered as he studied us with narrowed eyes through the lens of his glasses. Well… That was a relief. "But I want to know what's going on". Harry pointed to Dobby with the hand that wasn't currently regrowing bones. "He said that rigged the bludger to target me. That the school is in danger".

My fellow triplets and I started staring at each other; our eyes flickering back and forth from one and another as we tried to silently communicate. What we were asking each other was clear enough, 'what the hell do we do now?' But any answers or suggestions were unreadable. "Great danger", Dobby agreed. "A terrible evil".

Harry nodded along as if to say he agreed with the house-elf. Even though, in context, it didn't make sense for him to agree. "This has something to do with Mr. Filch's cat, doesn't it?" Harry asked. He was scanning us triplets with his eyes. But when we didn't immediately offer any answers, his eyes stopped on me. "You said to take what happened on Halloween night seriously. And you said that we needed to help each other if we're going to make it through the year". I was focusing on Harry. But I could feel Fred and George's accusing looks as my face started to get a little warm. I had said something along those lines. I just never expected the golden boy to throw my words back at me. "I want to help".

I sighed and glanced at each of my brothers; silently asking if they wanted to deal with this or should I. When all I got were vacant stares in response, I looked back at Harry. "What are the odds that you'd be willing to forget all of this happened, go back to bed, and never tell Ron and Hermione?" Harry didn't reward me with a verbal response as he stared at me with a solid stubborn, unmoving expression. Yeah. I knew there was no chance in hell of that happening. But I had to try. "Okay", I gave in; quickly coming up with a tactic. The best liars tell the truth, right? "That day we went shopping in Diagon Alley, Fred saw Lucius Malfoy slip something into Ginny's cauldron".

"Malfoy's father?" Harry asked for confirmation.

I nodded as Fred took up the mantle, having caught on to what I was willing to give away when I didn't start my explanation by saying you're a fictional character. "It was this old second-hand diary. I took it from Ginny's cauldron without her knowing".

"We didn't know what it was", George lied. "Or why Malfoy Sr. gave it to Ginny". The last part was technically true. We knew that Malfoy Sr. wanted to cause havoc at Hogwarts and we know that he immensely dislikes our family, but we don't know why he had slipped it specifically to Ginny.

"We didn't know what to do with it", I said; a half-truth. We knew it needed to be destroyed. We just weren't sure how. "So, we held on to it".

"That's where Dobby comes in", George said, nodding at the house-elf who flinched as all four of us turned our attention to him. "Remember when someone had gone through all of Ron's and Percy's things?"

Fred waited for Harry to nod before continuing. "Since it was only happening to Weasleys, we figured that it had to be about the diary. We set a trap and caught Dobby".

"He told us that the diary would make bad things happen at Hogwarts", I said; another half-truth. Dobby had told us that the diary would make terrible things happen. I just didn't mention that we had already known that. "We told Dobby that we wanted to destroy the diary, and we asked for his help".

"Nothing we can do is strong enough to destroy it", George said. "Burning it doesn't work".

"All the curses and hexes we know won't work", Fred tacked on. More half-truths. We hadn't tried burring the diary or using magic. We didn't need to because we knew that wouldn't be enough when faced with a Horcrux. "whatever magic the diary is made off, it's dark stuff".

"House-elf magic is different from our magic. Stronger, although not a lot is known about it. We thought maybe Dobby would be strong enough to destroy it, and we'd help him by freeing him", I said. Thanks to Harry gaining access to Sirus earlier in this order of events, and Hermione's early interest in house-elf liberation, we didn't have to explain what we meant by freeing him.

Dobby looked down and hugged himself. "But I's couldn't do it, sir". If I didn't have the sense that things were spiraling out of control, I would feel more empathy regarding Dobby's remorse.

"We needed to come up with a new plan", George said; keeping the ball rolling. No point in lingering too long and giving Harry the chance to poke holes in our story. "But before we could come up with one, Halloween happened. The same night that Filch's cat got petrified was the same night that we discovered that we lost the diary".

"The only person who knew we had it was…" I trailed off, gesturing to Dobby with my hand that wasn't holding my wand.

Harry wrinkled his brows. "You need him to tell you where the diary is", he reasoned. But as Harry continued to put two and two together, he came up with two questions that he asked in succession. "But how did you know that he'd show up tonight?" Harry's eyes suddenly widen and he glazed flickered over us triplets. "Did you know about the bludger?"

And here's the part where half-truths wouldn't suffice. "We guessed", Fred answered; using his superb acting skills to give Harry a shrug, like he didn't quite get how everything worked out either. Harry's widen eyes narrowed with disbelief. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn't believe us either.

I shook my head at Fred. Really? That was the best he could do? "What Fred means", I started to say as I looked back at Harry. "Is that we had a hunch. We knew you were important to Dobby because you're Harry Potter, and we hoped that he'd try something to get you to leave school. But we didn't know how. Today, when we saw the bludger acting off, we guessed that Dobby was involved and got lucky". Which a very ironic lie, because I won't consider anything that happened today as lucky.

Harry took his time as he digested everything we told him. He studied the stone floor, and he stared at Dobby before giving a very typical Harry response. "I want to help".

I pressed my lips together. The last thing we needed was another uncontrolled variable. Dobby already had that role covered. "It would be a big help if you could go back to bed and forget that this happened", I tried again.

I was ignored. "Let me help find the diary". Numerous implications ran through my mind. Letting Harry in might not be a terrible idea. For one thing, he attracted trouble like metal to magnets. We could probably do nothing and the diary would somehow find its way to him. Dobby's admiration of Harry could also be a way to motivate Dobby to keep working with us if Harry was now involved. Or, at least, keep him from taking the diary from us again (if we got it back). And the chamber of secrets had been opened; the basilisk awakened. It wouldn't be a bad thing to have a parselmouth on our side. But letting Harry help meant letting Ron and Hermione help too. It would make hiding information from them, like Jessie's memories, difficult. And that raised the likelihood that we would have to have an uncomfortable conversation about how we had already made changes to their lives. Not to mention the personal and private information I knew about their pasts and potential futures. I looked over to my brothers to try to gauge what they were thinking. George looked concerned, while Fred looked pained. Of course. If Harry got involved and if we failed to keep my knowledge under wraps, it would be near impossible for us to back out as Fred wanted us to. Now, I wasn't planning on stopping. I had no purpose in this life other than preventing Fred's death. But, considering that Fred had just told me that he didn't want to meddle with the order of things anymore, I hadn't come up with alternative plans yet. It was like I was driving down a country road at night without any headlights. I couldn't see the twists and turns of the road anymore.

When neither I nor Fred spoke up, George sighed and looked towards the ceiling as he collected himself. Like he had reached a conclusion that the rest of us hadn't. "Alright", he said, voice quiet as he turned his attention back to Harry; ignoring the rest of us. Probably to make sure that he didn't lose his nerve because Fred and I were staring at him like he had gone insane. "You can help. But you have to promise that you'll talk to us before you do anything". Smart. I thought as Harry nodded his assent. This way we might be able to prevent any more stupid choices from happening. Like sneaking into the Slytherin common room or visiting giant spiders in the forbidden forest. Plus, it might make Harry tell us when he hears voices coming from the plumbing.

I reached up with my wand free hand and ran it over my face. The hole we've dug just became a tad deeper. "Okay", I said; choosing to not think about possible consequences at the moment. I was tired. Fred and George must be tired as well. We needed this day to end. But it couldn't. Not until we saw my idiotic plan through to the end. "Dobby, we're not mad", I addressed the house-elf. "We still want to help free you, but we need to know. Did you take the diary?"

Dobby started to tug on his ears as he avoided eye contact with everyone. "Yes, miss", he admitted.

At last! Progress. I did what I could to keep my voice calm, but it sounded stressed even to my ears. "What did you do with it?" I asked. Please don't say you wrote in it. Please don't say you wrote in it. Although, I wasn't sure if Dobby knew how to read.

Instead of tugging at his ears, Dobby started twisting them in such a harsh fashion that I winced out of second-hand pain. "Dobby took the diary to the defeater of all things evil"…. What? Dobby's words weren't making sense, but they sounded vaguely familiar. "Dobby put it on his pillow when he was teaching his classes". Teaching classes? I was nowhere nearer to figuring out who Dobby was talking about, but a lump of dread was growing in my stomach.

"Dobby, who are you talking about?" George tried.

Dobby let go of his eyes and looked up at us all, showing us his big and bright eyes. "The great and conquering hero, Gilderoy Lockhart".

I swear, my heart stopped. Lockhart? I took a breath and noted when my brothers and Harry became slacked-jawed. Lockhart. My heart started up again; beating faster than before. Gilderoy Lockhart had the diary. Lockhart, the wizard I had threatened to use magic against earlier today had the diary. And who was probably the person whom the Horcrux possessed to open the chamber of secrets. "You gave the diary to Lockhart!" I exclaimed both frantically and shrilly. Whatever look I had on my face must have been a scary one, because Dobby squeaked and stumbled backward to put more distance between us. We were royally screwed.


	55. No Friend of Mine

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

No Friend of Mine

By breakfast, no one was talking about the funny behaving bludger. With the sunlight of the new day came the information of another mysterious attack. Colin Creevey, the Gryffindor first-year, had been found petrified in the halls late last night; holding his camera. George, freshly released from the hospital wing, told Fred and me all about it. In a narrow window of time, he and Harry had just managed to slip back into their beds when the hospital wing doors opened to admit the latest victim. He told us about how Dumbledore had whispered to McGonagall and Pomfrey, "Hogwarts is no longer safe. The Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again." And how Adrian had slept through the whole thing.

Speaking of Adrian, he too was released this morning. I could see him over at the Slytherin table with the Carrow sisters sitting close to his sides and Ginny across from him. Probably pressing them for information about everything the staff had said about the chamber reopening. It was good to see him up. We'd be able to talk during class today.

"We have to help him", Hermione said, pulling me out of my thoughts as she, Ron, and Harry joined us triplets at Gryffindor table. They sat down across from us. Harry was looking sheepishly at us like he was trying to apologize for his bushy-haired friend. But I'm not sure why. Fred, George, and I knew he wouldn't keep this a secret from our little brother and Hermione. Honestly, I'm surprised they hadn't approached us earlier than now. Though Ron didn't seem overly concerned as he busied himself with a bowl of porridge. It was only Hermione acting like an eager beaver as she leaned towards us, bracing her arms on the tabletop as she did so. "It's so awful. To be possessed-"

"Keep your voice down", Fred hushed her; cutting her off mid-sentence. "Just because you three know doesn't mean the whole school needs to."

But Hermione wasn't one to be dissuaded. Though she did lower her voice to a more private volume. "We should tell Dumbledore or McGonagall. They could save him before anyone else gets petrified".

And, really, what she was saying did make sense. We knew what was endangering Hogwarts. "And tell them what?" I asked her. Telling the adults in charge would be the obvious next step. But then we ran into the problem of explaining how we knew what we knew. Harry hadn't asked us too many questions. Maybe because we were standing in an unused classroom after hours with a house-elf. Or maybe because we hadn't given him much opportunity to think and come up with questions. But the teachers and Dumbledore, especially Dumbledore, would have plenty to ask us. How did you know the diary was filled with dark magic? Why didn't you tell anyone sooner? Did you know it was tied to the chamber of secrets? The half-truths we fed Harry wouldn't be enough to satisfy the adults. And we wouldn't be able to feign ignorance like we had when we 'stumbled' upon Pettigrew. "That a seemingly normal incompetent teacher is actually possessed and is responsible for writing messages in blood on walls and putting a student and a cat into comas." Of course, that's exactly what we should tell the adults. But I had phrased it in such a stupid and farfetched way, that the obvious answer becomes no.

Thankfully, second-year Hermione hadn't grown into her full inquisitive potential yet. So, she didn't immediately pick up on what I was trying to do. "Professor Lockhart isn't incompetent", she said in an indignant voice.

Ron snorted loudly into his porridge; earning himself a glare from his female friend. "What have you learned in defense this year, Granger?" George asked; sharing our little brother's sentiment. Because if the second-year lesson plans were anything like the fourth-year's, then they have been doing a lot of reenactments.

Hermione didn't like been proven wrong. She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. She sat with her arms on top of the table with her fingers laced together. "We learned how to handle Cornish Pixies".

I rolled my eyes and Fred and George scoffed. "Hermione", Harry spoke up. His voice was coated in disbelief. "He didn't know how to handle them! Lockhart made us put them back and get Neville down for the chandelier".

Hermione pursed her lips; not happy to not have a counterpoint. "Look", I broke in before the topic got completely sidetracked. I leaned in; causing Fred, George, and the golden trio to do the same. "The fact is that Lockhart is dangerous. Like horror movie dangerous". Fred, George, and Ron all opened their mouths at the same time. Probably to question me about what exactly a movie was, but I gestured with my hands to signal that now wasn't the time. "So no one should be caught alone with Lockhart. You three focus on figuring out how to free Dobby", I whispered. "Fred, George, and I will figure out how to get the diary".

Ron finished swallowing a mouthful of porridge before he dropped his spoon into his near-empty bowl. "But we want to help with the diary", he objected. "If that's what causing the attacks, then that's what's-"

Harry was already nodding along with his best friend when George interrupted, "no". He spoke for all of us triplets. Although few things had worked out this school year as we had hoped, we still considered it an accomplishment that Ginny wasn't in the midst of all this. We'd lose that victory if Ron took her place. "If we need help with the diary, we'll ask".

"Right now, we don't know where Lockhart's keeping it", Fred took over. It goes to show just how serious we were taking this. Considering that Fred and George were talking to Ron without making any jokes at his expense. "No point in all of us sticking out our necks until we know more". Though their lack of motivation to bring humor to our dark situation may also be because George had just sustained a head injury from our efforts, and Fred still wanted to back out as soon as it was feasible for us to do so.

"Besides', I said before any of the second-years could express their thoughts. "Dobby could be a very useful ally, but only if he's free". Because no matter how much Dobby wanted to help us, he was limited in what he could do if one word from a Malfoy could take away his free will.

"It's also the right thing to do", Self-righteous Hermione Granger stated with her eyes boring into me.

I rolled my eyes again. "Yeah, that too".

Having finally gotten a point in that everyone agreed with her, Hermione regained some of her confidence. "But even if you get the diary back, what are we going to do about the chamber and the monster from the legend? It'll still be open". She spoke lowly; making sure that no one would overhear us. This conversation wasn't really suited for the breakfast table, but at the moment we weren't too concerned. Everyone was sitting with their heads bent together as they discussed what happened to Collin and what could possibly happen next. In that aspect, we were blending in nicely.

And damn it all. Hermione was right. Even if we managed to stop the Horcrux via Lockhart from petrifying anyone else, the basilisk had still been awoken. I didn't know enough about how You-Know-Who's power over the giant snake worked. So, it was unclear if we took the diary out of the picture if that would be enough to put the basilisk back into hibernation. If the basilisk stayed awake in the chamber, did it still have access to the school through the plumbing? Or did Lockhart have to open the chamber every time for the basilisk to move? I was not prepared to face the Medusa of snakes. Neither was Fred and George. Our original plan was to avoid the chamber of secrets altogether. But that became impossible the moment Dobby had taken the diary from us. Now, we'd have to figure something out. What? I had no idea. Maybe we'd figure out a way to get Harry to learn he can speak parseltongue. Then we'd make up some excuse for how we know where the entrance for the chamber of secrets is. Harry could open it, and then we could... drop a humongous amount of roosters into the bowels of the chamber.

The sounds of breakfast continued all around us. Buttered knives scrapping against toast. The rustling of the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. I barely noticed any of it as I stared at Hermione. As an adult, I never liked precocious children. To me, they always came off as arrogant and bratty, which grated on my nerves. That part of my personality hadn't changed in this life. But as I looked at Hermione looking at me, I started to feel discomfort caused by cognitive dissonance. She knew she had gotten me on a point I hadn't considered yet. I found that extremely annoying. But as I looked at her, I knew that the parts about her that rubbed me the wrong way now, would grow into a young woman who's cunning would help a lot of people in the future. And I couldn't fault her for that. When I didn't say anything right away, and probably due to the blank expression on my face, Fred stepped up. "One riddle at a time, Granger".

* * *

This entire semester, I have entered the defense classroom with a sort of resigned boredom; knowing that I would be spending the length of a class period pretending to read a book I didn't care about. The only thing that made it okay was knowing that I'd be sitting next to Adrian. However, now that I knew what had control over Lockhart's mind, entering the classroom was like walking into a house of mirrors. Everything felt misleading, and I didn't know what my eyes could trust. In the book and the movie, Ginny had only lost control of her body during attacks. Or at least, I think that's correct. There wasn't any mention of her not being in control when she was in class or when she was around other people. I think. What I could remember was the books stating that Ginny lost time when she was possessed. Like she'd blackout and wake up in weird places with big time gaps. So, most likely, the man standing in the front of the classroom wearing lilac robes was Lockhart and not Tom Riddle in Lockhart's body. Bloody hell, this was feeling a whole lot like a Quirrell situation. Except, this time we don't have to worry about You-Know-Who breaking into our minds. I hope.

"I thought today we'd mix things up a bit with a demonstration", Lockhart said with his usual showmanship. He started walking down the aisle of desks; smiling at the students who made eye contact with him. As soon as he passed Fred and George's desk, my brothers turned around in their seats and locked eye with me. Both had raised eyebrows. Other than the pixie incident with the second-years, Lockhart had kept his instruction limited to book work. So, was this out of character? Or a fluke? As Lockhart passed, Adrian's and my desk, I shrugged at my brothers. We really didn't know enough about Lockhart to know the difference between normal and out of character behavior. I turned my head in Adrian's direction. We had been discussing Flint and my actions in the hospital wing prior to Lockhart starting class. Adrian wasn't particularly thrilled with me kissing him as a way to make a point, but he wasn't against it either. What was really interesting was when he told me that I had somehow garnered Flint's respect. But before I could question more about what exactly that meant, Lockhart started talking and we both had to switch gears. At Lockhart's announcement, Adrian was looking just as surprised as the rest of us. "I know you all are just dying in anticipation to see how I one-up the villain in Holidays with Hags". Lockhart reached the end of the classroom. He turned with a swirl of his robes before strutting back to the front of the classroom. He was all smiles as he stood in front of the blackboard and faced all of us. "Of course, I'll need someone to play the role of the hag. Any volunteers?"

Since it was November, we had sat through months of Lockhart's teaching methods and displays of narcissism. The intrigue of having a celebrity as a professor had worn off and no one was enthused by Lockhart's proposal. Every hand in the room stayed down as we all looked at each other; trying to guess who would be the poor sap that got pulled into Lockhart's lesson. All except for one hand.

"Ooh ooh, me!" Lee exclaimed as his hand shot up into the air and he started to wave it around. "Pick me! Pick me!" He was probably reading this situation as the perfect opportunity to put on the hat of the class clown. Under normal circumstances, Fred and George would be right beside Lee; competing for the chance to mess with a teacher. From her seat next to Lee, Alicia covered her eyes with her hands and shook her head. Probably experiencing second-hand embarrassment.

Lockhart's gaze traveled right over Lee as he scanned the class. Whatever this was, it was making the little hairs on my arms stand on end. Usually, he would have lapped up Lee's enthusiasm as it would have fueled his ego. "How about", Lockhart said slowly before his eyes landed on me. Crap. "Miss Weasley".

Fred and George were shooting me worried looks over their shoulders. "Pass", I said flatly as I sent my brothers a small shake of my head. I wasn't sure why Lockhart was calling me out. Maybe it had something to do with me pointing my wand at him at the quidditch game. But other than humiliate me in front of my peers, there really wasn't much he could do to me in a public setting.

Lockhart beamed at me and something glinted in his eyes. I wouldn't call it sinister. I wouldn't call it nice looking either. "Miss Weasley, I must insist. You wouldn't want me to dock participation points, would you?"

Oh, well we would want that, would we? I bit my lip to keep the overly sarcastic comment inside my head. I had to remember that Lockhart was possessed by a Horcrux and that I didn't want to become the next petrified victim. But, seriously. Why did teachers think taking away participation points was a big enough threat to get students to cooperate? Unless you are terrible at homework or taking a test, you can pass a class without participation points. Meanwhile, Lee was still bouncing in his seat with his hand in the air. "Why not call on Lee, Sir?" I asked apathetically. "It looks like he wants participation points".

Something shifted in Lockhart. Was it his stance? How he was holding his shoulders? Or the gleam in his eyes? Whatever it was, it was subtle. I probably wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't paying closer attention to the man that I ever had before. A dry sort of chuckle came out of Lockhart's mouth. "Now, Miss Weasley", he stated as if I had been humorous. "We can't ask Mr. Jordan to play the role of the hag. You are much more suited for the honor". A string of tittering sounded from the Slytherin side of the room while my fellow Gryffindors appeared to offended on my behalf. Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, Lee lowered his hand and remained sill. The only Slytherin that didn't laugh was Adrian, who had tensed next to my side like a python waiting to attack. While the loudest Slytherin could only be Stimpson from the back of the classroom. This bastard. He was comparing me to a hag.

Clicking my tongue, I stood up slowly with my hands balled into fists. I was used to being insulted by teachers…. Okay, I was used to be insulted by a teacher. Snape was always lacing his lectures with barbed comments aimed at Gryffindor pride and our individual failings. Lockhart's insult felt different. Maybe it was because he didn't make them often or maybe because it was only directed at me. But it felt like he had crossed a line that Snape never had. I moved stiffly with everyone's eyes on me as I came to stand next to Lockhart in the front of the classroom. He relaxed and fell back into his usual mannerisms. "Excellent", he said before clapping his hands together. "Alight! Now, as you've all read in my book, a hag is a magical creature that lives off the flesh of children, possesses rudimentary magical abilities, and resembles an old crone". More cackling from my Slytherin classmates. All except for Adrian who was looking at Lockhart with a countenance that depicted an act of violence. "Most hags aren't dangerous to wizardkind, but there are a few exceptions. When faced with such a hag the best thing to do is to knock them off their feet. Remember that they won't have wands, so you already have the upper hand", Lockhart explained as he started moving. "Miss Weasley, stand right here", Lockhart said as he gestured me to the spot he'd had been standing just moments ago. Here, I was in a position for all my classmates to get a good view of me. And that wasn't boding well. Lockhart moved back down the aisle. He stopped midway and turned as he pulled out his wand from his robe pocket. "There are many ways to subdue a hag. But can anyone tell me how I defeated the hag in my book?"

Stimpson's hand shot up into the air. "The knockback jinx, professor", she answered gleefully when Lockhart called on her. I clenched my hands into tighter balls.

"Very good Miss Stimpson. Five points to Slytherin", Lockhart awarded as he raised his wand; eyes locked on me. I barely had a moment to brace myself. "Flipendo!" Lockhart exclaimed. There was a loud bang as blue light streaked out of the tip of Lockhart's wand. It made contact with my abdomen. Air flew out of my lungs, giving me the impression that I had been hit with a bowling ball. My feet were knocked out from under me as I flopped backward a couple of feet and landed on my rear. The knockback jinx is a first-year spell and not that strong, but I still felt disoriented for a few seconds after as I sat on the classroom floor with my lungs straining to regain regular function. After those couple of seconds passed, the first thing I registered was laughter. "Very good, Miss Weasley", Lockhart said; beaming at me. I flushed as if forced myself to my feet. What made it worse was that I couldn't decipher if Lockhart's praise was stupidly genuine, like it had been all year, or spoken to mock me. At least it's over now, I thought as I started to make my way back to Adrian. But I didn't even make it one step before Lockhart said, "Just a moment, Miss Weasley". I halted and looked back at Lockhart with narrowed eyes. What now? Lockhart addressed the class once more. "The knockback jinx is a very useful spell, as everyone just saw. But if you want it to be very effective it's important to make sure your wand movement is precise and fluid". I didn't like where this was going. Not one bit. Glancing away from Lockhart, I found my brothers. George was staring at me with sympathy; his lips pressed together in a thin line. While Fred is glaring at Lockhart with bubbling anger. If Lockhart wasn't a teacher and we weren't in the middle of class right now, he'd probably would have already received some sort of retaliation. Weasleys don't like it when you mess with other Weasleys. "Pay close attention to my movement", Lockhart instructed. "Flipendo!" Lockhart cried again. Without much warning, the bowling ball feeling returned and I was slammed backward again as another loud bang echoed throughout the classroom. I landed on the stone floor; gasping for air. "Who can tell me what I did differently this time?" Lockhart asked the class as I angrily climbed back to my feet; already feeling a little sore. My right hand itched with the urge to pull out my wand. But I couldn't. I may have gotten away with pointing my wand at a teacher during the quidditch match when everyone was distracted by the injured. However, I wouldn't be that lucky in class with a whole audience of witnesses. Especially since some of those witnesses were enjoying watching me fall on my arse.

Lockhart continued his instruction on a jinx that we had all learned when we were eleven. He had my classmates analyze his posture, pronunciation, and focus as he cast the knockback jinx three more times. With me serving as his practice dummy each time. In a way, it was a good thing it was Lockhart casting the spell and not someone else. Although Lockhart was a fully grown wizard, even I could tell he wasn't using the jinx to its full potential. He wasn't charging up his magical energy in between casts, and the result wasn't as strong as it could have been; probably sparing me from some nasty bruises and side effects. Still, after being hit with the jinx five times in a row; my body ached, especially my bum, my chest was heaving with the effort to try to hold on to my breathing, I was feeling nauseous, and my blood was boiling. Knowing how anger is reflected in my family, I probably resembled an enraged tomato. Assuming my face had turned scarlet from my pent-up emotion. I don't think I have ever been closer to wanting to commit homicide. Fred and George weren't far behind me; their expressions murderous. Whether or not Lockhart was in control of his own actions and feelings, he had just declared war on us and we were going to destroy him.

For the sixth time that day, I pulled myself to my feet; swaying slightly as my body protested. Right now, what I wanted more than anything (other than scalping Lockhart) was to lie down and not move for several minutes. Instead, I steeled myself as Lockhart raised his wand again. This time to show the class, "an excellent example of footwork", when a hero stepped forward.

"Everyone in this room knows how to cast the knockback jinx, Professor", Adrian said as he stood up from behind our shared desk. His grey eyes appeared darker, like the moon on a foggy night as he moved away from our seats. With his wand still raised and pointed at me, Lockhart looked at Adrian with confusion, like he couldn't understand why Adrian was interrupting him. "You don't need to take up so much class time to cover it". Adrian's voice sounded cross as he moved in front of me; blocking Lockhart's wand from my view. "Perhaps we could move on to the rest of the lesson?" Adrian's manner was cordial, but his tone was anything but.

Lockhart cleared his throat. I peaked around Adrian; my face still flaming with rage and embarrassment, but I was glad to see that Lockhart had finally lowered his wand. 'Um, yes", the professor agreed. "Perhaps you're right".

Adrian didn't wait for Lockhart to say anything else. He turned so his back was facing Lockhart and the rest of the class. His face was stone as he whispered to me, "Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

Behind Adrian, Lockhart started some weak explanation about proper spell casting footwork to save face. I shook my head and quickly glanced over to my brothers. They were sitting rigidly but seemed like they were breathing easier now that there wasn't a wand pointed at me. "No", I whispered back; voice coming out like a wheeze. To leave the classroom now would mean admitting a defeat.

Adrian nodded as he took one step closer to me. Instead of offering me his arm like he normally does, Adrian took matters into his own hands. He wrapped a solid and dependable arm around my upper back at the base of my shoulders; supporting most of my weight, and ushered me back towards our seats. Since we always tend to sit near the front of the classroom, we didn't have far to go. But we didn't end up returning to our original seats. When we reached the corner of our desk, Adrian gently pushed me forward. Signaling that I should take his seat close to the wall, and he'd take my seat on the aisle. I didn't argue or question his intentions Adrian had prevented any more knockback jinxes being used against me. He could have led me into a room filled with obnoxious Stimpson clones and I would have gone willingly.

Lockhart finished his explanation right as Adrian and I started sitting down. Adrian was gripping my elbow tightly to aid me in the transition even though I wasn't suffering any loss of motion. "Thank you, Miss Weasley", Lockhart said with delight. "You made a wonderful hag". There was another bout of tittering from the Slytherin side as I slumped against Adrian; my head resting on his shoulder. Adrian didn't complain and bore it in silence as Lockhart continued with his lesson on hags. In the class time that we had left, I lost Gryffindor twenty house points for not paying attention.


	56. Professor Riddle

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Professor Riddle

By the time class was dismissed and I separated from Adrian to head to history of magic with the rest of the fourth year Gryffindors, I was already feeling better. Physically speaking. The knockback jinx isn't known for its aftereffects and Lockhart isn't the epicenter of magical prowess. Other than being a little sore tomorrow, I doubted that I'd be affected by today. Physically, I mean. Emotionally, I was one poke away from turning into the bloodthirsty beast whose only purpose in life was to maul anyone so much as looked at me funny. My right hand clutched the strap of my book bag while my left was clenched into a fist and digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand. My eyes burned with the intensity that I very much wish to release on some unsuspecting soul. Fred and George walked on either side of me and Lee walked behind us. They're holding themselves just as tensely as I am; muttering back and forth to each other over my head about possible revenge choices. "We could try experimenting with that muggle itching powder again".

"We could set off dung bombs in his office".

"Put some of our Nosebleed potions into his morning coffee".

"Think Sprout would give us some belladonna if we ask politely?"

These were all wonderful ideas my fellow triplets were coming up with, but they were missing a big component. Lockhart using me as a target for his spell practice, while hurtful, wasn't that big of a deal. This was a magic school after all. Everyone here has or will be hit with spells during their education. What Lockhart had done was far worse than cast magic on me. He called me out in front of both my friends and enemies, insulted my appearance, and created a situation where I wasn't even allowed to attempt to defend myself. Hags don't use wands, after all. What hurt the most about that defense class wasn't being knocked off my feet repeatedly. It was being humiliated in front of an audience and having to stomach my peers' laughter and pity without being able to respond. I've never been very good at being the butt of someone's joke. At least not as Jessie. As Holly, I was slightly better because I've been the punchline of many Fred and George pranks. I can laugh at myself when they're covering me in glitter or hiding my possessions from me. But Fred and George have also never done anything that had intentionally caused me discomfort or made me lose face. Lockhart had hit me where it hurts, and I wanted to be turned the favor.

"I want to make his hair fall out and his teeth decay", I growled out over Fred and George's growing list of revenge suggestions as we rounded the corner; forcing a group of chattering first years to step out of our way as we continued on. I wanted to target the things Lockhart cared about the most, his good Looks and award-winning smile. If he thought I looked like a hag, I was going to make him feel like an ogre.

Fred and George fell silent as we continued on our way to history of magic. They were probably trying to think up all the ways they could make my wants a reality. Fred and George were like the fairy godmothers of mischief. If someone had a wish for justified mayhem, they'd try to grant it.

We were nearing Binns' classroom. It was tempting to skip. I was doubtful that Binns would even notice if we didn't make an appearance. But if Percy ever caught wind that we ditched class, he'd be on our case faster than a bee to honey. Right before we reached the doors, Lee spoke up. "That should be the fourth challenge in our Angelina competition".

I pause mid-step. Causing George and Fred to do the same. Once Lee's words fully sink in, I turned around. Lee Grins as soon as he sees that he has my attention. But he doesn't speak again until Fred and George turn around too. "First one to run lockout out of the castle wins", he proposed.

I mulled it over in my head. It was a great idea that I loved in its entirely. But I wasn't so engulfed by my anger and wounded ego that I forgot that Lockhart had to stay long enough for us to reclaim the diary. However, despite knowing that I needed to, I was struggling to think up an excuse as to why we shouldn't ruin Lockhart. It was like trying to convince yourself that you didn't want chocolate when you really really do. Unlike me, however; Fred and George never try to restrain themselves from indulging their desires. "I'm game", said George. Something in his voice has me flinching back so I can get a look at his face. His eyes are gleaming as a devilish smirk takes over his whole persona.

"Let the best prankster win", Fred said from my other side in a voice equally as sinister as George's. I turn my head only to see by his expression is the same as George's as well. Even though it is in our best interest to keep our focus on the diary, I'm glad that my brothers want to make Lockhart miserable. Even though I know better, I give in with a sigh. It's not a big sigh. I wanted this just as much as they did but damn it. This wasn't going to end well.

* * *

It was like Lockhart had undergone a personality change overnight. To most, it was confusing or simply marked off as some sort of celebrity quirk. To us who knew about the diary, we were confident it had to do with You-know-who's soul fragment absorbing Lockhart's lifeforce. In the book when it had been Ginny getting her soul absorbed like she was liquid and You-Know-Who was a sponge, she had been depicted as scared, and flighty. Rightfully so. If it had been me, I'd be freaking out if I woke up with chicken blood on my hands and robes, and no memory of the last couple of hours. I think, at this point in the story, Ginny had tossed the diary away; having connected the dots between the charismatic writings of Tom Riddle and her blackouts. However, Lockhart hadn't displayed any of these same feelings or fears. He made his regular appearances in the great hall and taught all his classes with his stupid perfect hair and his pearly white teeth. It made me wonder what he thought about the lost time and if he expected the diary was evil or not. I suppose he could have chucked the diary by now. He is a different person and a man. So, it's unlikely that he'd try to get rid of it in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom like Ginny had. But with no way of knowing and going off gut instinct, I think Lockhart still has it. And that instinct has nothing to do with the fact that I want to rip out his hair and leave him looking like something from a muggle haunted house. Nope. Has nothing to do with that at all.

Lockhart's personality change came in the form of short-temperedness and petty revenge. Anyone who didn't sing him praises, give him their full undivided attention or did anything to refuse him got called on during class to participate in a demonstration. In the next class, it was Adrian who had caught Lockhart's evil eye. Probably because he had interfered with Lockhart's fun from the last class. With pursed lips, Adrian had moved to the front of the classroom, the same spot I had stood, to play the role of a bumbling squib that had been kicked out by his pureblood family, and relied on Lockhart to help him assimilate to the muggle world. This was a story that hadn't been in any of Lockhart's published works. I can only assume it was developed for the sole purpose of embarrassing Adrian. And for a pureblood coming from Adrian's heritage and political views, it was embarrassing. To be forced to act out a role that hinted at the dwindling strength of pure bloodlines, and made him sound like an incapable idiot was hurtful to Adrian's pride. When Lockhart had released him and Adrian returned to our shared desk, I could see that he was fuming under his carefully crafted façade. At least, Lockhart hadn't used magic on him, even if the reason was just another blow to Adrian's identity laced in. Because apparently using magic on a helpless squib was the equivalent to punching someone who wears glasses in the face.

The Hogwarts gossip mill became filled with stories about how Lockhart was bullying students during classes. At the beginning of this, Slytherin was operating under the impression of 'So what? Snape bullies students all the time.' Even though the rest of the school, like me, seemed to come to the same conclusion that Lockhart was crossing a line that Snape never had. But when there one of their own became under fire by Lockhart's classroom displays, they changed their tunes. In a way… a very messed up and deplorable way, Lockhart's teaching methods were bringing the four houses together. Slytherins were gossiping with Hufflepuffs in the hallways. Ravenclaws were giving Gryffindors pointers on how to fly under the radar. It was… a weird benefit to the current affairs. One that I didn't expect. I mean, Umbridge's reign of terror hadn't unified the houses through mutual dislike. Why wouldn't it be the same for Lockhart?

Then the rumors grew in alarming strangeness. A fifth-year Hufflepuff stumbled across Lockhart's standing alone in a corridor grumbling angrily as if he was talking to an invisible presence. Or about how he had zoned out for ten minutes during the third-year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw defense class. No matter how loud or how frequently the class had called his name, Lockhart didn't respond. He just stared at the blackboard without blinking.

Fred, George, Lee, and I came up with numerous plans to get back at Lockhart in that time. Lee thought of sending Lockhart fake fan mail laced with oil that would damage his hair follicles each time Lockhart ran a hand through his perfect hair. Fred and George came up with the idea of selling talisman that could 'protect' students from the chamber of secret's monster. They would, of course, give a special free one to their favorite teacher, Professor Lockhart. What would make this talisman special would be the hex they placed on it that would randomly throw Lockhart off-balance whenever he wore it. I know that doesn't sound like some grand prank, but it could have some nasty results if Lockhart was ever wearing it around a flight of stairs. I tossed around ideas. But decided that my best idea was the one that involved filling Lockhart's office with redcaps.

However; no matter how many ideas the four of us came up with, no one made a move. We… and I hate admitting this, we were too scared. And in my and my fellow triplet's case, none of our prank ideas would help us reclaim the diary. Generally, when we pranked someone, we knew exactly what we were getting into. We'd get yelled at or scolded depending on who caught us. Detention was a given. As were the laughs from whoever was there to witness it. But right now, in the midst of Lockhart's current… behavior, messing with him felt like unleashing the forces of hell. We didn't know how Lockhart would react.

In fact, no matter what we do, I don't think we'd be pranking Lockhart. I think we'd be pranking Tom Riddle. And that was a task that would have even the bravest of Gryffindors stalling. So, as November faded into December, we didn't mock or rib each other for not making a move in this fourth challenge. Of course, Lee didn't know about Tom Riddle, so he didn't have a reason to explain his apprehension like Fred, George, and me. But anyone who spent time with Lockhart would understand why he was uneasy. Lockhart was like a game of Russian Roulette. We didn't know when he would go off or on who. Even the teachers appeared o be catching on to something inappropriate happening in Lockhart's classes. They would eye him with suspicion in the hallways and Flitwick had started asking us during the last five minutes of his classes about what was going on in defense. No one answered him though. At least, not in our class. Everyone was too afraid that they'd become Lockhart's next victim.

No one was spared from running the chance of being called up to participate in one of Lockhart's in-class demonstrations. Though he did have his favorites. I was one of them. Adrian was another. But his ultimate favorite was Harry. I'll give you three guesses why that is.

Of course, we weren't in the same year as the golden trio, so we never saw what Lockhart was doing during their classes. But we heard all about it. "It was awful", Hermione would stress over her charms book in a quiet corner of the common room. "He made Harry cast rictusempra over and over again until his core was depleted".

"The man's a lunatic", Ron would report around a mouthful of mashed potatoes at dinner time in the great hall. "He used the tongue-tying curse on Harry and called on him for every question. If it wasn't for Hermione, Harry would still be speaking like a drunk goblin".

Harry never complained himself. As his friends voiced their offense on his behalf, Harry remained silent with a sort of resigned endurance that I can only suspect is left over from the time he spent living with the Dursleys. At least, Hermione had stopped singing Lockhart praises.

Similar to us, the golden trio wasn't any closer to freeing Dobby than we were to getting the diary. I'm not sure why. Maybe they weren't motivated. Or maybe Harry and Ron weren't as gung-ho about house-elf liberation as Hermione was. But how hard could it be to trick Malfoy Jr. to hand Dobby an article of clothing? It wasn't like Malfoy was particularly cunning as a second-year. Hermione could run circles around him. From where I'm standing, it seems like a much easier task than stealing back the diary. Were they just overthinking it? Were we all getting tangled up in our thoughts?

"Miss Weasley, are you paying attention?" Came the berating voice of our professor, whom not two weeks ago, never sounded like that. I snapped out of my internalizing problems with a visible flinch. Crap. Looks like I've caught the evil eye again.

I snapped my eyes up from where I had been staring blankly at Adrian's textbook. It was the right textbook this time. The one Lockhart had asked us to bring for today's class. We could no longer work on assignments from other classes during defense. Not when it ran the risk of drawing the ire of an unstable narcissist. Although, no one was really paying attention to Lockhart's lesson. "Yes, sir", I answered as I forced myself to make eye contact; feeling slightly proud of myself when my voice came out strong. "I'm listening".

The classroom is engulfed in a terse silence as Lockhart's blue eyes bore into mine. His gaze is different, like everything else regarding his persona. His focus is sharper now. More like a person that could dissect you with one look rather than a person who spent all his free time looking into a mirror.

"And yet you don't have your own book", Lockhart countered; his tone foreboding. My shoulders tensed as I felt Adrian stiffen next to me. Everyone knew why I didn't have my own book. Everyone knew why Fred, George, and I were constantly passing the assigned texts and school supplies back and forth. No one had ever called us out about it before now.

Other than the occasional priss who found self-importance in mocking those who came from households with smaller incomes, no one really cared that us Weasleys wore hand-me-down clothes and lived off limited finances. Actually, ever since I had gotten cozy with Adrian, I hadn't heard one discouraging comment from another student about my family being poor. "My family couldn't afford to buy six sets of your books, sir". I answered honestly. If Lockhart was trying to embarrass me again, he wouldn't succeed. As Jessie, I had grown up in a single-parent household. I was used to living on a budget and felt no shame in it. Coming from a family of ten, I already had more than most people.

Lockhart didn't even try to look uncomfortable for committing a social blunder. "Aw, how unfortunate", he drawled out in a tone that didn't fit his appearance at all. "Nevertheless. It's a student's responsibility to come to class prepared, and you are not. Five points from Gryffindor". If Lockhart wasn't looking at me, I would have rolled my eyes. I hadn't come to class with my own book all year. Neither have Fred and George. During defense, I shared with Adrian, and Fred and George shared with each other. Lockhart was only mentioning it now as an excuse to mess with someone. But whatever. House points were the last thing on my mind. Though, Lockhart wasn't done. "It's unfair to force Mr. Pucey to share his book". As Lockhart turned his eyes onto the boy sitting next to me, I swung my line of vision over to my brothers. Like the rest of our classmates, they were sitting with stiff backs. There wasn't anything they could do. Like in most situations when a bully is reigning over others, the bystanders feel powerless and remain silent out of fear that they could be next. But this situation was worse because of the difference of power between Lockhart and us students. He could put us in detention, keep us after class, and give us failing grades. As someone who had previously been an adult, I didn't really care if I failed a class. And I knew Fred and George didn't either because they knew what was at stake with Lockhart's shift of character. But for others, who didn't remember past lives, school was their job and a path towards a future. A failing grade they didn't truly deserve and the consequences that would follow was terrifying. Still, I looked towards my brothers. They couldn't intervene without getting in the crossfires. But it was a comfort to know what they would witness whatever was about to happen.

"I highly doubt the two of you read at the same speed", Lockhart continued. His eyes turned back to me. "So, you'll just have to help me with my demonstration of the twitchy-ears hex. I think that's the only way you'll be able to learn".

This time I do roll my eyes, not caring if Lockhart saw. Of course, he'd want me to act as a spell dummy again. I started to rise from my seat with the palms of my hands placed flat against the desktop as I prepared myself to feel like Dumbo for the rest of the class. Surely, this wouldn't be as bad as being hit by the knock-back jinx repeatedly. At least, no one, not even Stimpson, would be laughing at my expense this time. Lockhart's cruelty has built a fragile sort of comradery, after all. But a hand grasping my wrist stopped me from standing fully.

I glance down at Adrian, expressing confusion. But he isn't looking at me. Not even as his grip on my wrist becomes progressively tighter. His focus is on Lockhart as he stares him down with a steely resolve. Adrian, what are you doing?

I'm still standing in the awkward position of being half-seated when Adrian said, "Holly will not be participating". Adrian spoke like Lockhart needed his permission to call on me in class. Adrian's declaration was giving me flashbacks to last year when Adrian and I had a clash of differences in cultural expectations. In any other situation, the comment he had just made would have made my hackles rise. But Adrian had just done something that no one else had dared to. So, instead of annoyance, I felt fear. Fear for the boy I had grown fond of. After all, Adrian had no idea that he was willingly approaching a land mine.

Unlike last time, Adrian had stopped Lockhart from casting magic on me, Lockhart didn't stumble with his words as he tried to save face. If anything, he seemed amused by Adrian's interference. Giving me more and more of a sense that it wasn't Lockhart who was teaching our class. "You don't have the authority to decide that, Mr. Pucey". Lockhart said menacingly but without raising his voice.

"It's okay", I whispered to my boyfriend, silently pleading for him to back down. "I can take it". I didn't know what Adrian was doing. But I didn't want him to end up another casualty of all this madness. Especially when Lockhart had access to a basilisk.

But Adrian shot me such a strong look. A look that expressed how much Adrian wanted me to leave things in his hands. It was unyielding. So much that I dropped back into my seat; feeling stunned. Adrian has always been an intense guy. That wasn't surprising, but he had never directed the full force of his personality on me before. Once I was fully sitting again, Adrian looked back at the man pretending to be an educator. "In fact", Adrian continued as if neither I nor Lockhart had spoken. "If I ever see or hear that you've used magic on a student every again, I'll tell Professor Dumbledore or any of the teachers. And if that doesn't work, I'll go to the Hogwarts Board of Governors".

A different type of tenseness took over the classroom's atmosphere. This one was less resigned. It carried more action potential. Like a cauldron about to bubble over. And Adrian had served as the igniting spark. I started to feel cold as something dangerous glinted in Lockhart's eyes. Adrian, no. No. No. No. Please, no. You don't know what you're walking into, I thought. "You'll need proof if you want them to believe you". Lockhart pointed out nonchalantly as if Adrian posed no threat.

"That won't be hard to get". Adrian promised with no fault in his conviction. My stomach was doing flips as I watched all this play out. What Adrian was doing was… well, it would be smart if he knew all the pieces that were at play. In cases of bullying, the most efficient way to subdue the bully was to take away their power by standing up for the victims. The more bystanders who wouldn't put up with the abuse, the less fear the bully could invoke. The difficult part was being the first person to stand up because if no one else followed, that person would be the next one on the chopping block. The problem is that Lockhart isn't just a bully. He's the host of a soul fragment belonging to a psychopath that's infected with dark magic. And out of the six people who currently know that and Adrian isn't one of them. Merlin's beard on toast!

Lockhart smiled; displaying his award-winning teeth for all to see. But it seemed less bright than it had in the past. Lockhart's hands twitched as one started to move towards his pocket. For his wand? I wasn't sure, but if Lockhart was reaching for his wand, I doubt he was still thinking about doing the twitchy-year hex. My eyes flickered back to Fred and George. They weren't looking at me; too focused on the demon currently teaching our class. Meaning that I had no way to communicate to them that I was about to do something unplanned and incredibly stupid. But it couldn't be helped. My only goal; my sole reason to exist was to keep Fred and the rest of my loved ones alive. That now included Adrian. Adrian, who was blindly charging into a battle without knowing who was fighting on the other side. I needed to intercept and pull Lockhart's focus off Adrian. However, I can only think of one way to do that. I just hope my brothers will forgive me when it's all over.

Lockhart started to open his mouth, but I beat him to it. With the sound of my heart pounding in my ears, I said, "you're an enigma, Professor". Lockhart pressed his lips into a thin line as he pulled his attention away from Adrian. It wasn't long until his eyes and that of the rest of the class was on me. I took a big breath and forced myself to continue. Even though my instincts were screaming at me to stop. Fred. George. I'm sorry. "You're completely different than how you were at the beginning of the year. Almost like you're a different person entirely". Lockhart's eyes hardened to a point that it was causing my legs to shake. But I licked my lips and finished painting a target on my back. "It's like you're a riddle you want us to solve. Maybe we should start calling you Professor Riddle".

The only sign that I had gotten to Lockhart was the small twinge of his left eye. From the other side of the room, Fred and George were gaping at me with horror. While everyone else, Adrian included, were blinking at me in confusion. Enigma? Professor Riddle? What was I going on about? And me….. Well, I had just signed my own death warrant.


	57. Say No More

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Say No More

I had no defense. At least, not one to justify my incredibly stupid and unplanned decision to tell Lockhart that I knew exactly who he was selling his soul to. My only excuse was that I had acted on a lovesick whim to prevent Adrian from tangling himself up with You-know-who once more. Other than occasionally visiting with Sirus, Adrian wanted nothing to do with his past life. And damn it! I wanted that for him. So, I couldn't just… just let him unknowingly confront You-Know-Who's soul fragment.

But judging by the looks on Fred and George's faces, I knew they didn't think my reason was good enough. Not when I had just thrown all our precautions out of the window. Not when I had essentially made myself number one on Lockhart's hit list. And the worst part of it all is that I hadn't discussed any of it with Fred and George beforehand.

"Holls, you… you…" Fred started to say, but his agitation and worry had him sputtering out. After defense class had ended, we hadn't gone to history of magic. Instead, as soon as class was over, Fred and George appeared at my sides and we hightailed it out of there before Lockhart had the chance to tell me to stay behind. I barely had enough time to grab my things.

"I'm sorry", I said when it became apparent that Fred wasn't going to complete his sentence any time soon. My eyes tracked his form as he paced up and down the length of the room of requirement. Knowing that we could get all the privacy we needed here and that no one would be able to find us once they noticed we were ditching class; we had headed straight for this room. The room had read our needs and provided us with a warm fire, a plush couch, and plenty of space to move. The perfect place for us to have a mental breakdown.

George was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Occasionally, he'd shake his hidden head as if he was trying to rid himself of all unhelpful thoughts. "You're the one that always made us plan everything out!" Fred found his voice as he continued to pace. "You're the one who made us learn all those details from that stupid story you're basing our lives on all because you didn't want anyone to make thoughtless decisions!"

I flinched at Fred's words, but he was right. Until now, that was how I had handled all of our…. Interventions. "I know", I said remorsefully. Fred scoffed as he turned on his heel and dropped onto the couch next to George in a furious heap. "I couldn't-" I started to explain, but stopped to sigh instead. "Adrian was…" It could be left unsaid that Adrian had been unknowingly endangering himself. "And I think he was doing it to help me. So, I couldn't just let him… be in the front lines alone", I finished weakly. I couldn't speak with conviction. I couldn't defend my actions. Not when I had sacrificed all safety measures to keep the keeper of my hormonal teenage heart out of harm's way.

George shook his head again and Fred snorted loudly. "So, you decided to take his place instead?" Fred asked incredulously. When I didn't deny it, Fred tacked on an exasperated, "Merlin, Holly!" to the end of his question.

George picked his head up out of his hands and looked me straight in the eyes. "You made yourself a threat", he said in a much calmer voice than Fred as he pointed out exactly why my choices had been foolish.

"I know", I confessed my guilt. I adjusted my gaze until I was staring at my school shoes. They're the only things I own that didn't have an owner before me. While I often got the trainer's Percy outgrew, I couldn't wear boy school shoes with my uniform. Mum felt that it didn't look proper. As the eldest girl, I had no one to inherit school shoes from and got the honor of breaking in a new pair. But Ginny would get these in a couple of years.

"Now Lockhart knows that you and probably me and Fred know about the diary", George continued.

"I know". I kept my head down and voice apologetic. If I had slowed down, even if just by a couple of seconds, I would have probably made a different decision. It's going to be so much harder to get the diary back". George reasoned as Fred continued to fume on the couch next to him.

"I know", I admitted again. This was all I could do at the moment. I couldn't argue that I had done the right thing. And making excuses won't help my case.

Like a shaken can of cola, Fred fizzed. "You know!" He exploded as he sprung up from the couch. I took an unplanned step back. "You know", he repeated as he stepped closer to me and grabbed me by my shoulders. "Is that all you can say?" He asked as he started to shake me; causing my head to bob. "What happened to not taking unnecessary risk?"

"I kn-" I started to say, but another jostled shake cut me off.

"Fred", George tried to break in. But Fred was on a roll.

"You promised me. You promised that once the diary was taken care of, we'd stop messing with things that we shouldn't know anything about". What Fred said was only directed at me. "And now it's like you're going to make it as hard as possible to get the diary for us to be able to stop".

I'm finding it very difficult to look away from my shoes. I did promise that. "Wait. What?" George broke in from the couch. "When did you two talk about stopping our plan?"

Fred let's go of my shoulders in favor of throwing his hands up in the air as he turned away from me to face George. That's right. We haven't told George about how Fred wanted to back off from all our meddling. We had meant to. Right after we talked to Dobby after the bludger incident. But plans had gotten derailed when Harry had found out about the diary and then everything with Lockhart…

"I want to stop", Fred addressed George. "I want us to stop exposing hidden animagi, intercepting Horcruxes, and spoiling the plans of dark wizards. We should just let things happen as they're supposed to", Fred let out in one breath. This particular point of topic has probably been brewing in his mind for a while now.

At the end of Fred's opinion, George's posture becomes rigid as his eyes widen. "Fred, you could die", was his immediate response.

"We could all die", Fred argued. "The stuff Holly knows isn't going to protect us. And we don't know what's been affected by the choices we made". Fred paused. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. As he does this, George and I share a look. George's mouth was closed and his eyebrows were slanted inward with disapproval. It was clear to me that he didn't appreciate being kept in the dark about an important conversation that should have included all three of us. But we had to get Fred through this before George could take his turn being angry. Or so I thought. When Fred opens his eyes, it was with finality. "I'd rather die than have someone else die in my place. I figured that out when you took a bludger to the face".

George stared at Fred; his mouth opens ever so slightly. How does one respond to that? It's honorable to not choose your life over others if it can be helped. And it was something we all felt. George wouldn't want us to die for him. And I didn't want Fred and George to throw their lives away for mine. So how do we argue? How do we argue with Fred? Convince him that we absolutely should keep on doing everything we can to prevent his death in the upcoming war when we also wouldn't choose to have anyone die in our place?

When George didn't come up with anything to say, I decide that I better share the plan I had come up with on my own. The one that would give my fellow triplets an out. "I think if Fred wants to stop, you both should". Fred exhaled loudly as if he had just been freed from an overbearing weight. But George's expression was becoming stormier by the minute. I don't blame him. He had taken a bludger to the face for our half-baked plans, and now we were telling him that he had done so without us intending to see things through to the end. "But I can't. There must be a reason that I remember my past life; a reason that I was born knowing about Harry Potter." That was the excuse I was giving them, but the truth was that I just couldn't do nothing if knew something awful was going to happen to someone I love. "I shouldn't have pulled the two of you into this. You didn't know what you were signing up for". Especially because things rarely happened as I said they would. "I should have just handled things on my own. I think that's what we should do from now on. I wanted to find a way where all three of us made it out at the end. But I should have known better." I wasn't sure why I was still talking. Or exactly what words were sprouting out of my mouth. Judging by the disagreeing looks on my brothers' faces; I really should stop talking. But I don't. "The simplest solution is often the best solution. I shouldn't have tried to change so much. I should just make sure that I am the one who gets crushed by the crumbling wall. That makes the most sense. Besides, this is my second life. It doesn't matter if I die".

It was like being hit by a rogue wave. One moment I was standing on my own two feet and the next moment I had been pushed back against the wall with one brother keeping me pinned by each of my shoulders. "No one wants that!" Fred yelled in my face.

I blinked as the harsh volume made my ears hurt. I think I've been pretty patient with Fred's feelings of guilt as George and I did what we could to keep him safe. I think I've been understanding of George's ire for being left out of important conversations. And I accept my fault in revealing myself to Lockhart. But I was started to get annoyed by all the back and forth. We weren't going to solve anything at this rate. "If someone has to die, why shouldn't it be me?" I retorted as I strained against my brothers' holds. But I didn't get anywhere.

"Merlin, Holly", George said, sounding like an old man who had just thrown out his back. "Just because you've died before doesn't mean you're expendable".

"Yes, I am!" I was vaguely aware of how terrible I was sounding. "You and Fred have dreams. You want to open a joke shop. You want to earn enough money to make sure Mum and Dad can enjoy their golden years, and you both want to get cozy with Angelina. Which is very weird by the way. The only thing I want is for our family to stay safe. It's why I was born!"

"No, it wasn't!" Fred and George yelled at the same time.

"Holly", George growled out. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe you were reborn because you didn't deserve to die the first time? That it wasn't your time? Maybe you're not supposed to solve the problems of the wizarding world".

I opened my mouth to refute that point. I did not believe my purpose was to save the wizarding world. If I did, I would have made fewer selfish choices. But Fred didn't let me put in my two cents. "Maybe you're just supposed to enjoy your life".

"If I was just meant to enjoy living, then why do I have all of these memories about the Harry Potter series?" I demanded to know.

"How the hell should we know?" Fred yelled back.

"What about Pucey?" George asked. He wasn't yelling like Fred, but his voice wasn't expressing contentment either. "He's reincarnated too. He was a death eater in his past life. Is he supposed to defeat You-Know-Who?"

"No", I instantly replied.

"Why not?" George asked.

The answer flies out of my mouth. "Because he doesn't want to!"

I'm breathing heavily as George asked his next question. "So, why is it different for you?"

"Because I don't want anyone in our family to die. If my death can make that happen, then I'm okay with it". My throat was starting to hurt from all the yelling.

"You prat", Fred broke in. "If you're dead then someone in our family does die. Your logic doesn't make any sense!" Fred yelled one last time before he forced himself to calm down via a deep breath. Fred let go of my shoulder and took a step back. "Okay, new plan", he said to George. "Holly isn't allowed to make any more plans".

Following Fred's example, George lets go of my other shoulder and stepped back. "Agreed", he said. I huffed as I used one hand to rub one of my shoulders. Like that was going to happen. "Do you really want to stop?" George asked Fred.

Fred exhaled loudly from his nose. "Yeah. It's not like I won't try to avoid dying five years from now. But if I lose one of you two in the process, then that would just be the same as dying myself".

"So, what do you think we should do?" George asked as he folded his arms across his chest. "We can't just walk away when Lockhart is in the diary's control, and Jolly Holly made herself enemy number one". George nodded in my direction. I'm getting the feeling that I've been demoted from a valued contributor to a liability. Seriously, they were talking like I was no longer in the room.

Fred took his time answering which clued me in that whatever he was going to suggest, I wasn't going to like it. Fred rubbed the back of his neck. He was looking at everything in the room of requirement except me. "I think we should tell someone else what we know".

"No!" I immediately refused. Did they want me to end up locked up in St. Mungos or the department of mysteries; being poked and prodded as people tried to figure out how I knew things that shouldn't be known? Did they want me to be labeled as a mental case for the rest of my life?

"Who do you have in mind?" George asked.

"This is a bad idea", I said before Fred could answer. "I told you two because I knew you wouldn't have me locked up or shipped off to be some type of experiment or seen as a mental patient-"

George cut me off with a wave of his. "Holly, shush. The grow-ups are talking". This git.

"I think we should tell Dumbledore", Fred said; still, without looking at me.

* * *

Outnumbered two against one, and with the two using every tactic from guilt to puppy-dog eyes to get me to agree, I ended up getting manhandled onto the 'tell Dumbledore' plan. Standing shoulder to shoulder with my brothers in front of the gargoyle, I was racking my brains. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to end up like Snape and promise my life to Dumbledore. Not that I have anything against the headmaster. He's a great guy. Really. But we had different agendas. I wanted to save Fred. He wanted the final downfall of You-Know-Who. In the ending that I know, Dumbledore gets what he wants. Though he is dead by that point. What if he didn't appreciate that the changes we made could potentially bring about a different ending? But that wasn't why I was racking my brains. I had been outvoted. Fred and George want to tell Dumbledore, and I had angered them enough today. They had trusted me and my decisions and now it was my turn to trust them. The problem was…. I couldn't remember the password to the headmaster's office. I knew it was a type of sweet, and I'm vaguely sure that it has something to do with lemon….

"Lemon layer-cake", I said to the unmoving gargoyle. Nothing. "Lemon tart". Nothing. "Lemon… Meringue?"

When the statue still didn't budge, George tilted his head in my direction. "Jolly Holly", he started slowly with a certain scolding tone creeping in. "I'm starting to wonder if you truly don't remember-"

"Or if you're just trying to stop us from talking to Dumbledore", Fred finished from my other side.

"I promise I'm not", I tried to assure them. But I wasn't worried about being too convincing. George had used my nickname. They must be calming down if they were rhyming again. "I just never thought we'd need Dumbledore's password so I didn't try to memorize it like other facts from Jessie's memories".

Fred and George continued to talk to each other as I thought up more lemon themed sweets and desserts. Lemon flavored lollypop, a lemon head, lemon bars? "You know", Fred said to George. "It is kind of strange that we haven't been here before". Lemon drops?

George nodded. "Yeah, you'd think we would have seen it after that time we used the sticking charm on the wall and that fifth-year Slytherin". Lemon pie. Lemonade. Lemon-flavored warheads?

"Or that time we charmed the floor in the second corridor to be bouncy for a day", Fred added.

Something clicked in my mind. "Sherbet lemon", I blurted out.

The Gargoyle statue stepped out of the way, revealing a stone spiral staircase. Fred, George, and I watched in silence. No one moves or speaks until the gargoyle stopped moving. "Does anyone else get the impression that we're breaking another school rule?" George asked.

Fred and I shrugged. We've broken so many, one more wasn't really a concern to us. Hell, we were supposed to be in class. So technically, we were breaking a rule right now. Fred grabbed my hand before he took the first step forward. "We won't let you get thrown into the department of mysteries. I promise". He squeezed my hand in reassurance as we made our way up the staircase; George following behind.

It doesn't take long to reach the top. Dumbledore's office door is closed, so we take a moment to clarify our courage. Two deep breaths later, George reached out and knocked. The sound was heavy and echoed off the stone walls. But there was no response. "Well, we tried", I said as I turned around. "I think history of magic is over. Should we head to charms?"

Fred's grip on my hand tightened as he stopped me from turning completely. "We're not leaving until we talk to Dumbledore". He said. I rolled my eyes and frowned as I faced the door once again. Fine.

George grabbed the door handle; expecting it to be locked, but it swung open easily. "I guess we can wait inside", George said as he stepped forward first. Fred moved next; pulling me behind him.

Dumbledore's office is exactly as it has been described in the books. Little noises, almost undetectable, bounced around the circular room; coming from little objects and trinkets set up on display on tables or from the inside of cabinets. The walls were barely visible as most of them were covered by the hanging portraits of snoring headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts past. At the other end of the room, stood a huge desk. The desk's surface was covered with books and parchments and candy bowls. It wasn't hard for me to spot the sorting hat sitting on a shelf behind the headmaster's desk. But what really drew my attention was the giant scarlet bird sitting on a perch next to the desk. It was the first phoenix I have ever seen in person. Fawkes was absolutely stunning.

"Okay", George said as we filed further into the room and the door swung shut behind us. "I think I understand why we've never been sent to the headmaster's office before. This room is too good for the likes of us pranksters".

Fred let go of my hand as he bent over a table to study some of the objects sitting on it. "I feel like we're in a museum", he shared.

I kept moving forward. Drawn to the rustling of the scarlet-gold feathers and the black gem-like eyes that were watching my approach. How many lives had Fawkes seen? Was reincarnation infinite? Would Fawkes and I spend all eternity dying and waking up in new bodies? My philosophical questions and fascination in the scarlet-gold bird were calming my nerves. I was no longer being bombarded with fears of being an experiment in the department of mysteries, or what Dumbledore would do when he learned that I knew so much about his future plans. It was hard to focus on those fears when Fawkes' intelligent stare was drawing me in closer and closer. Soon, I was tuning out Fred and George's comments on Dumbledore's office as I reached out a tentative hand to the phoenix. Fawkes allowed it, and I stroked the back of my hand down his feathered back. For some reason, I was getting the impression that Fawkes knew. He knew I was like him; a soul that had lived across lifespans. Of course, we weren't exactly the same. Fawkes had died more times than I had. I think. Maybe Jessie was the only past life I remembered, but I suppose it could be possible that there had been others. Did that mean that everyone had past lives? Like Fawkes, I had been given a new body when Jessie had died. Unlike Fawkes, I woke up in a new place, at a different time, and with a new name. When Fawkes died, he'd climb out of his ashes and grow up as the same phoenix all over again. Was that the difference between human and phoenix reincarnation? I wonder which is worse.

Fawkes leaned into my attentions. His eyes closed momentarily, suggesting that he enjoyed having his feathers petted. But when Fawkes opened them again, I was pinned by his knowing gaze. My hand stilled. Just what was this bird seeing? Jessie, Holly, or the combination of the two that makes up my identity? It was disconcerting, but I was getting the impression that this phoenix understood more about me than anyone else ever would. Including myself. And he pitied me for it.

"My! Isn't this a surprise?" A kind and wizened voice came from behind me. Effectively breaking me from the trance of Fawkes' stare and silencing my brothers.

I twirled around; feeling very much like a kid that had gotten caught swiping candy from the shop as my brothers did the same. "Professor Dumbledore!" They said in surprised sync. None of us had heard the approach of footsteps or the sound of the door opening.

Dumbledore stood by the office door; holding his hands behind his back. His eyes held its signature twinkle as he looked at us from his half-moon spectacles. "Students do not normally visit me during class hours", Dumbledore said as he moved past my brothers and past me to get to the other side of his desk. "I will admit. I'm intrigued about what has brought the three of you to my office this day". Dumbledore spoke with levity as he took a sit in his office chair. I took a step back from Fawkes as Fred and George came to stand next to me with George standing in the middle. Does that mean we won't get in trouble for missing classes? But now it was time to fess up to… well everything. I gulped down my nerves. Honestly, I would prefer to be in detention. "Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered from one of the many candy bowls sitting on his desk.

Before any of us could refuse or accept, Fred jumped the gun. "Sir, Lockhart's possessed by Tom Riddle. He's using magic on students, and it's a house-elf named Dobby's fault".

Silence dragged on as Dumbledore stared at us while Fred's words sank in. I covered my face with one of my hands as I fight the urge to groan. There has to be a better introduction than that.

"Err", George vocalized after a moment. "Lockhart is… well, possessed Lockhart is also responsible for the chamber of secrets and the petrified victims." He added because that was also important information.

"Professor Lockhart", Dumbledore corrected. His facial expression was soft as he remained calm, but his eyes had lost their twinkle. That was the only sign we got that he was taking us seriously. "Those are serious accusations. As such, members of staff and a few of your classmates have brought their concerns about Professor Lockhart's teaching methods to my attention". Dumbledore shifted in his chair as he fixed his posture. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was good that other people were speaking up. But isn't it bad that no one had done anything yet? "Though this is the first time I've heard about an involved house-elf and a possessed teacher. How did you come across this information?"

Fred and George both looked at me, and copying them, Dumbledore did the same. I knew it was my turn to talk. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. For some reason, I was finding it more difficult to tell Dumbledore about Harry Potter à la Jessie than I had when I first told Fred and George. Probably because I knew Dumbledore didn't love me like Fred and George did. "I…. know things", I finally settled on. And just like the first time I had this conversation, I immediately regretted how I started it.

The twinkle returned to Dumbledore's eyes. "This is a school, Miss Weasley. It is our goal for you to know things, as you put it".

I closed my eyes and sighed very deeply. Bloody hell. George nudged my side with his elbow. When I opened my eyes, I decided to just open the floodgates. "I know that you know that I remember a past life". I kept my focus on Dumbledore; hoping that my voice wouldn't shake. "In that life, I read a series of books that I thought were just fiction. I learned about a hidden world that existed parallel to mine. I read about witches and wizards who went to school in a magical castle in Scotland". The twinkle left Dumbledore's eyes again as he leaned forward from behind his desk. "It was a shock when I died and learned that everything in those books was real. I knew Harry Potter would be sorted into Gryffindor. I knew Sirus Black was innocent. I knew Scabbers was actually Pettigrew before our transfiguration presentation. I know that last year, you were safe-guarding the philosopher's stone by keeping it in the Mirror of Erased. And I know that the only way to get the stone out of the mirror is to want to find it but not use it, even though I've never seen the mirror in person". I paused here as I tried to think about what I should say next. Dumbledore wasn't blinking, and my brothers were unnaturally still. We weren't worried about Dumbledore not believing us. We knew too much for him to disregard us. "And I know… I know who opened the chamber of secrets. I know what monster is in the chamber. I know You-Know-Who could come back. I know how you could die. I know how You-Know-Who could be defeated once for all. And I'm saying could because they haven't happened yet and I don't know if me telling you this will change things". At the end, I had to take long breaths with my mouth open. That was a lot to say in one go.

"Fred and I know all of this because Holly told us everything", George added before Dumbledore could respond. "We planned that whole thing with Pettigrew. We made sure to expose him in public with McGonagall there so there'd be plenty of witnesses".

Dumbledore was silent for a while, which I couldn't blame him. That was… that was a lot to unpack. But when he finally did speak, Dumbledore sat back in his seat. "Knowledge is a powerful thing", he told us; his voice calm and grandfatherly. "You would be wise to be mindful about how you use it".

….What exactly does that mean coming from him? I force myself to look away from Dumbledore to cast a questioning gaze to my fellow triplets. Dumbledore had been a Gryffindor when he was a student, right? So, why was he sounding like a Ravenclaw? "So…. Do you believe us?" Fred asked slowly.

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth before folding his hands on top of his desktop. "I do", he spoke around the sweet in his mouth.

I shared another look with Fred and George. That's… good. I think. When Dumbledore didn't make any moves to spring into action; when he gave no inclination that he was going to squeeze every bit of information out of me, I asked, "do you want to take care of Lockhart first, or do you want the full story about You-Know-Who?" Because if someone told me that they knew how I could die, I'd be asking questions.

"Professor Lockhart, Miss Weasley", Dumbledore corrected again. I was really struggling to understand why talking with respect about a mad-man mattered. "Yes, I will handle the problems concerning Professor Lockhart. I can't have a teacher using magic against students so casually, after all". I let out a breath of air that I wasn't aware I was holding. "As for everything else you have shared with me, I will do my best to forget it", Dumbledore answered serenely.

Come again? My eyes widened as my face twisted in confusion. Dumbledore didn't want… to learn anything about what I could potentially know? Fred and George must have been making similar faces, based on the amused gleam in Dumbledore's eyes. "But, Sir-" George tried to argue.

Dumbledore talked over him. "In fact, I must insist that you three reframe from sharing this information with anyone else". I should have felt at ease with Dumbledore telling us that. I mean, it was exactly what I wanted; for things to stay between Fred, George, and me. But instead, I felt on edge. Why? Why would Dumbledore turn down a chance to get a leg up on the next couple of years? Especially if it meant his death could be prevented. "The information you possess is dangerous". Dumbledore was addressing all three of us, but I got the impression that he was mostly speaking to me. "There is a reason why those who have memories of past lives are protected under the law. Did you know, Miss Weasley, that if you were ever brought in to testify in court you could not be administered veritaserum because that would run the risk of you being forced to reveal details of your past life?" I shook my head no. The rights of reincarnated people was not something I've ever looked into. Although, I probably should. "That law is in place to prevent reincarnated people from being targeted by their past-lives' enemies or to spare them from the consequences of past life deeds. However, the same consideration is not given to people who know about another's past life. Therefore, every time you share things about your past life, you are making it easier for other people to learn about who you once were. In most cases, this would not be a terrible thing. However, given what you have just shared with me, I can assure you that the knowledge you hold is dangerous. Many people would want it. Many people would want to know how it's possible for you to have it, and many would target you for it. The safest thing for you to do is to guard what you know".

So,…. Did we come here for nothing? "No!" Fred interjected. He stepped forward and placed his palms flat on the edge of Dumbledore's desk with his elbows locked. "We need help. If we keep on trying to stop bad things from happening, these two idiots are going to get themselves killed!" Fred exclaimed as he took one hand off Dumbledore's desk to make vague gestures at George and me. I'm not sure what I was more offended by; being called an idiot or Fred assuming that we'd die. Although, I guess we did just have a conversation about all of us being willing to die for each other.

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it", Dumbledore said. The familiar, yet out of context, line sent shivers of nostalgia up my spine. If I didn't know where that line came from, I'd say that what I'm feeling was déjà vu. "However, I'm afraid I cannot help the way you wish me to. No matter what the three of you know or how you decided to act upon it, I believe things will happen as they are meant to. Though I fear that I would not be able to say the same if I became involved".

I wrinkled my nose. I feel like I shouldn't look a gift unicorn in the mouth, but…. "Sir, that doesn't make any sense", I said honestly.

Dumbledore gave me a closed-lip smile. "I know it doesn't, Miss Weasley. But, one day, I think you will find meaning in my words".


	58. Crisis Intervention

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Crisis Intervention

After Dumbledore refused to act, we were… lost. For lack of a better word. He was our headmaster and a fellow Gryffindor. If Dumbledore wasn't going to have our backs when we asked for help, when would he? And that's without adding the amount of info we tried to share with him. I mean, Merlin! Fred and George had basically presented me as the golden goose and I had been ready to sing like a canary. Who turns away from an open book like that?

We didn't know what to do. I hadn't wanted to tell Dumbledore to begin with. But like Fred and George, I saw involving Dumbledore as a sort of 'game over' move. It was like admitting we were failing and forced to show someone higher up our hand. We had no backup plan for telling Dumbledore. So, after we left Dumbledore's office… we went to charms class. It was already half-way through by the time we entered the classroom. Fred got the honor of coming up with an explanation for Flitwick about why we were so late. Coming up with half-ass excuses is generally something we enjoy. Especially when no one believes us. In the past, we always, always, always get detention when we do this. But this time, Flitwick listened to our half-baked excuse, took in our dimmed expressions, and told us to take our seats without so much as taking away house points. It was the only clue we got to how defeated we must look.

Fred and George join Lee while I sit next to Alicia and Angelina. All our friends cast curious, searching looks in our directions. I could guess what their questions were; Where were you? Why did you skip class? What happened? What was all that weird stuff you were talking about in defense? But it is not like we can talk about any of that in class, so we kept our heads down. Or at least, I did. I couldn't focus on Flitwick's lesson. I couldn't even pretend. But with class half-way over, it didn't matter.

What to do? What to do? We need to stay away from Lockhart. Obviously. But was that possible? Dumbledore had said he'd do something about Lockhart's teaching methods. But what does that mean? Was he going to sack Lockhart? Or do something else? How long before he did… whatever he was going to do? I doubt anything would get done before our next defense class.

After charms was lunch. But before we could leave the classroom, Flitwick asked us to stay behind. With everyone sending us weird looks as they filed out, Flitwick waited for the door to shut behind the last one. "Are you alright?" he asked; eyes scanning all three of us. "It's not like you three to look so down."

No one had a ready-made answer for Flitwick. We had worked up the courage once to let an adult in our circle of trust and the results were disappointing. It wasn't something I was ready to repeat any time soon. So, I tried to make my brain work; to think of something to appease Flitwick. Snape confiscated our supply of dung bombs. We're sad that we can't prank Filch right now because he's too depressed about Mrs. Norris… We were homesick. I don't know. But apparently, feeling defeated and having no idea how we should proceed makes us honest. "We were talking to Professor Dumbledore about Lockhart. We think he's going to hurt Holly". Fred spoke up. I sent him a sideways glaze around George. Is that how we're playing it? He had his arms crossed over his chest and was staring at Flitwick at only Flitwick.

To his credit, Flitwick did not wave way our worries or tried to rationalize them as an over-exaggeration. Instead, his eyes darkened and he leans forward slightly on the podium he's standing on. It's the podium he uses so he can be eye level with everyone when he's teaching. "What has been going on?" He asked.

Yes, what's been going on? "He's picking students he doesn't like and makes them do 'demonstrations' in class and uses magic on them", George reported. "Holly's a favorite because she pointed her wand at him during that quidditch game with the bludger". And looking back, that really had been strike two. Strike one was Dobby giving Lockhart the diary. The jury is still out if trying to involve Dumbledore was strike three.

Flitwick shifts his attention to me. "Miss Weasley, have you been hurt?" His question is serious, but he asked it calmy. It gave me the impression that no matter how I answered, Flitwick wouldn't respond in a way that would put me further on edge. However, even with that small nicety, I didn't have an answer I wanted to give. I stood next to my brothers and in front of Flitwick with my lips pursed. Was I hurt? Physically I was fine. But I don't think that is the type of hurt Flitwick is asking about. When a moment passes without me saying anything, George opened his mouth and started making speech sounds. A firm but understanding look Flitwick has him quieting. Flitwick's attention goes back to me. "Do you feel like you are going to be hurt?" He asked a different question; giving me different ways I can give him the same information.

I didn't mean to say it. I had no plan to say anything. But standing in front of a wizard who has been my teacher for four years and never raised his voice; it just pops out of my mouth. "I want to go home". And as soon as I said it, I knew it was the truth. I wanted to hide behind the walls of the burrow. I wanted to fall asleep under one of Mum's homemade quilts. I wanted everyone to be home to share a dinner of rosemary chicken around our crowded dining table. I wanted Dad to hound me with questions about the most useless of muggle inventions. I wanted Adrian to come over and suffer through an interrogation as my brothers tried to figure out if they liked him or not. I just wanted to feel normal for a bit.

The lines around Flitwick's eyes softened as he read everything that I wasn't saying from my single admittance. He had been trying to collect intel on Lockhart for weeks. Everyone knew that. It made me wonder how many students had come before us. How much practice did Flitwick have at getting scared students to talk? He looks at all three of us again. "I think it took a lot of courage for you three to tell Dumbledore", Flitwick complimented. Except we couldn't accept it. Not when Flitwick didn't know about everything that we had tried to report. "What did Professor Dumbledore say?"

Fred sighed in frustration. "He said he'd handle it. But he didn't say when or how".

Flitwick nodded once and I couldn't tell if he agreed or disagreed with Dumbledore's choice. But I had no doubt whose side Flitwick was on. Flitwick was first and foremost a teacher. He wasn't like Snape who hated kids and was only at Hogwarts because he owed Dumbledore a life service. He wasn't like Binns who was completely out of touch with his students and didn't know any of their names. Flitwick was here and actively involved because he wanted to be. "In the meantime, how would you three feel about becoming teacher aids?"

Umm….. "Sir?" George asked slowly. Flitwick's offer had nothing to do with what we had been talking about and felt like it was coming from out of the blue.

Flitwick expressed his understanding through a small smile. "I could use some help during my class with the first-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. I believe that takes place at the same time as your class with Professor Lockhart". A mischievous little gleam traveled across Flitwick's eyes. Oh. He had thought of a way to give us an out. I quickly glanced at Fred and George; feeling both astonished and impressed. Why did it take Flitwick seconds to find a way to help us in the now when Dumbledore didn't even have advice for us? "Temporarily, of course", Flitwick added. "We can't keep you from a core subject for too long. But it isn't your OWL year and you're not NEWT students, so I believe it will be possible. It's actually recommended that students who might be interested in pursuing a career in education to shadow one of their professors. And I just know that the Weasley triplets are dying to learn how they can help influence young minds." Double meaning was laced into every word Flitwick said. Who knew he had it in him.

It didn't take Fred and George long to jump on board. "Absolutely Professor", George agreed.

"You know us. We think school is the most important thing in the world", Fred added. Flitwick made no reaction to the heavy-handed amount of sarcasm they were using. I mean, it was good sarcasm. They were happy with Flitwick intervening.

"I wouldn't be able to have three aids in my class. But I'm sure other professors would appreciate the extra help. Professor Sprout or Professor Burbage, for example. And you would have to study defense on your own time. To keep up with the curriculum, of course", Flitwick further explained. "Are you three interested in becoming teacher aids?"

Another moment of silence as my brothers and I pass looks back and forth. What Flitwick was offering was a temporary solution to our safety concerns. But it wouldn't fix anything in the long run if Dumbledore didn't do anything about Lockhart. It just bought us more time. More looks seemed to be shared between Fred and George than me, Fred, and George. Seems like they are still serious about their plan that I wasn't allowed to make any more plans. "We can't leave Lee behind", George said to Flitwick after the moment passed. I know they didn't just mean Lee. Fred and George would worry about all our friends being in class with possessed Lockhart. Like true Gryffindors, they wouldn't leave them to endure on their own.

"But Holly will do it", Fred decided to accept on my behalf. I thought about refusing; arguing that if they weren't going to leave Lee, I couldn't leave Adrian. But I also didn't want to confront Professor Riddle anytime soon. Especially, when I didn't feel like I had a chance of success. So, I just nodded my assent to Flitwick.

Flitwick's smile grows. "Excellent. And Misters Weasleys, if you change your mind at any time or if things become worse, you'll let me know?"

Fred and George gave Flitwick solemn nods.

Flitwick turned back to me. "I will talk with Professor McGonagall and get everything arranged. Expect a new class schedule tomorrow morning". Flitwick hopped off his podium and started walking towards the door. "Now, you three. Let's head down for lunch". Fred and George went first, and I numbly followed behind. Was I making the right choice? "And on the way, you can tell me about the marvelous hats you made last year". Flitwick continued. But he wasn't fooling us. He was walking us to the great hall to make sure we didn't run into Lockhart when we were alone. If students could give teachers house points, I'd give Flitwick enough to fill Ravenclaw's hourglass.

* * *

Today's lunch was chicken sandwiches and salad. I had eaten about half of it when someone came to hover over my shoulder. "Holly", Adrian called softly to get my attention.

"Not now, Pucey", George interjected as I turned in my seat. "We're eating.

Adrian ignored him; keeping his eyes on me. "Walk with me". Adrian offered me his hand to help me climb out of my seat. It was the kind of gesture he usually makes when we interact. But I didn't miss how he hadn't phrased it as a question. "I want to talk to you".

I dropped my half-eaten sandwich on my plate before accepting Adrian's hand. I knew there was no avoiding this. Adrian was too attuned and thorough to let me get away with what I had said in defense class without questioning me about it. As Adrian helped pull me to my feet, and adjusted my hand until I had taken his arm, Fred gave a nervous, "Holls?"

It was an emotion that wasn't normal for him and it stung. "I'll be fine", I tried to assure both of my fellow triplets.

And then as if he knew what we were talking about, Adrian said, "Nothing is going to happen as long as she is with me".

We didn't wait for Fred and George to respond or argue. Adrian led me out of the great hall and neither one of us looked over our shoulders.

He didn't say anything as he took us somewhere else in the castle. He wasn't even looking at me even though I was sneaking glances at him every couple of steps. Adrian wasn't clenching his jaw and the vein in his temple wasn't throbbing. His usual tells of agitation weren't there. I couldn't decide if he was angry, confused, or concerned about what went down in defense. Maybe he was feeling all three. Either way, I couldn't think of how any of those options would bode for me.

Adrian keeps this up until he takes up into an empty classroom. It is the same classroom that Fred, George, Lee, and I had used when we were practicing the reversal spell last year. Adrian has me enter first, and he makes sure to close the door behind him. "So, what's going on?" I asked. I figured I owed Adrian some sort of an explanation. Suddenly sprouting out things about riddles that sounded completely out of context to anyone who didn't know about Tom Riddle's diary would have most people raising eyebrows. I just hoped he wasn't going to get mad like he had when I had said 'crude' things to Stimpson about our relationship.

Adrian faced me and pulled his wand out of his robe pocket. His wand was made out of black walnut wood. I didn't know its core, but at that moment, I was more curious about why he had taken it out at all rather than the inner workings of wands. Reflexively, I took a step back. Should I have made sure this was actually Adrian before leaving with him? There hasn't been enough time for Lockhart to have gotten his hands on polyjuice potion, right? "I think we should have a duel", Adrian stated.

Come again? I blinked a couple of times as I fought the urge to do a double-take. "Why?" I asked What good would having a duel do?

"Humor me", Adrian responded quickly. "I think there's something you're forgetting".

Okay…. That was slightly cryptic. I pulled out my wand but didn't raise it. "And you can't just tell me because…." I trailed off in question. To be completely honest, with everything that has been going on in this school, I was a little sick of magic.

"Do you trust me?" Adrian answered my question with a question. I still couldn't read his expression. His eyes weren't expressing much. If anything, they appeared calm and steadfast. Which wasn't giving me anything to go off. His body posture was relaxed too, despite his weird request.

"Yes". The answer came easily. I had no reason not to trust him.

Adrian shifted his weight as he fell into some kind of stance. "I'm not going to hurt you". He said. "I just want to show you something".

I thought about trying to copy Adrian's stance. I thought about refusing to do this. Instead, I admitted, "I've never been in a duel before".

My voice must have come off as unsure because Adrian's face smooths into a patient look that I had never seen on him before. "Just raise your wand and be ready to react. Actually, I'm going to let you cast the first spell". I think he meant it to be reassuring, but it did nothing. Feeling off-balanced, I raised my wand in front of my face with a grip that was tighter than how we were instructed to hold our wands as first-years. Were we really going to do this? "When you're ready", Adrian said.

I took a deep breath. Everything I knew about duels came from Harry's duels from the book series. Because of that, there was really only one spell I thought about using. "Expellarmus", I yelled. Scarlet light shoots out of my wand in Adrian's direction.

But before I had even finished saying the incantation, Adrian was moving his wand. He didn't say anything, but the scarlet light of my disarming spell bounced off the air in front of him before it could hit. A shield charm. My eyes widened. How? He hadn't said anything. There was no pause between Adrian's wand movements. As soon as his shield charm was over, he was sending a golden-hued light in my direction. I didn't recognize it. My instinct wasn't to throw up a shield of my own. I doubted that I could get the incantation out fast enough. So, I sidestepped it. Adrian redirected his aim and cast another nonverbal spell in my direction. When did he learn how to do that?

This duel, if it can even be called that, quickly became one-sided. I never got the chance to build up my magical energy or mutter another spell as Adrian lit up the room in blue, red, and purple light. He never paused or faltered as he pushed me back further into the classroom. Some spells I recognized; like the tickling charm and the tongue-tying curse. Others were unknowns. I felt like the only thing I could do was dodge, and it wasn't long before I was stumbling over my own feet. My breathing accelerated along with my heart rate. Fly-away strands of my hair started to stick to my face. We couldn't have been at this longer than a minute. Why was I already slowing down?

Adrian, on the other hand, was relentless. He still had his mouth closed. There wasn't any visible sweat on him It wasn't long before I got hit. My feet started tapping uncontrollably on the stone floor. Tarantellegra. It had to be. Why would he use the dancing feet spell in a duel? But with my feet no longer under my control, it was harder to dodge Adrian's attacks. His next spell that hit me caused my arm to go numb. Luckily it wasn't my wand arm. Not that I was really using my wand. Clearly, Adrian had done this before. The last spell that hit me, I recognized. Adrian had only used nonverbal magic this whole duel, but as soon as my body froze up and my limbs became rigor mortis I knew he had hit me with the full body-bind curse. I fell backward and was grateful that I was at least not falling forward. My back connecting with the floor was the only pain I felt from this whole duel, and it was a mild amount. Adrian had been telling the truth; he wasn't trying to hurt me.

Only a few seconds passed of me staring up at the ceiling, unmoving before Adrian was standing over me. Not a single hair on his head was out of place as Adrian waved his wand over me and muttered the counter-spells for all his handiwork. Annoyingly, he looked very relaxed and I was feeling kind of jealous. As soon as I could, I popped up into a sitting position. Adrian kneeled next to my side and I turned my head in his direction to glare at him. "So, what did you learning?" He asked smugly. Git.

I scoffed. "That you're secretly a sadist".

Adrian gave a closed-lipped smile that didn't really express any amusement as he reached out with his wand free hand and swept a few hairs out of my face. The brush of his fingertips on my forehead sent a shiver down my spine. I kind of wanted him to do it again. "How about the fact that I know more magic than you do?" Adrian asked self-assuredly as he lowered his hand.

"Yeah", I admitted slowly. "That too". Where was he going with this?

"And why do you think that is?" He asked another question. Like he really wanted to make sure that the point of this little duel of his sunk in.

But I was honestly drawing a blank. I shook my head and made a gesture with my hand. "I don't know. You have a lot of free time on your hands". I was still rather confused about why Adrian wanted to show me how strong his dueling skills were with everything that was going on. I mean, things weren't great but it wasn't like we were going to be seeing a war anytime soon. That was hopefully still five years away.

"Being in a relationship with you, I am finding that I have a lot less free time", Adrian retorted with a bit of snark. I couldn't call him out on it. Not when he had just easily overpowered me. "Holly", Adrian changed tone; becoming slightly more serious. "I was a Hogwarts graduate". Things started to click after he said that. "I know every spell, curse, and hex that they teach here. I was a death eater. I know dark magic that they don't teach here. I know magic that is illegal". He pauses to let that last sentence really resonate. We were talking about past lives. And when comparing past life advantages, Adrian definitely won. He had been reborn into the same culture as his first life. And he had a lifetime of experience using magic. "I don't understand what those things you said to Lockhart meant. I don't know why it set him on edge. But I think you said those things for me". Adrian continued. He reached out again. But this time, instead of brushing hair out of my face, he rested his cold callous palm against my cheek. I leaned into the touch. After today, I need any small comfort I can get. Adrian leaned in closer until our foreheads were touching. "I don't need you to protect me. It might be hard for your brash Gryffindor brain to understand, but I knew what I was doing and I am very capable of doing it. When it comes to the wizarding world, let me handle it". Adrian tilted his head and pressed his lips against mine. Like the first kiss we had shared in the hospital wing, this was also long and drawn out. Unlike that kiss, this one is warmer and carried some sort of promise that I was still working on discovering. It's kind of made me forget why we're in this unused classroom in the first place. When the kiss was over, Adrian kept his forehead pressed against mine. "But if I ever run into any trouble with a muggle, you'll be the first person I turn to for help".

I snorted. "I doubt a muggle is ever going to give you trouble".


	59. Home For the Holidays

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Home for the Holidays

When McGonagall put up the sign-up sheet for students staying over the winter holidays, Ron found Fred, George, and me revising for ancient runes in the common room. "Hermione thinks we could free Dobby if we stay over the holidays". Ron announced.

Instantly, I had flashes of Ron and Harry drugging other students, breaking into the Slytherin Common Room, and Hermione becoming a catgirl. "No", I answered abruptly. Though… I highly doubt that they had been brewing any poly juice potion in this order of events.

Ron adopted an affronted expression. "What do you mean? You can't tell us what to do".

I tilted my chin down and pinned Ron with a 'try me' look. I may not be able to do much to Harry and Hermione, but I could hogtie Ron and lock him in my trunk if that's what it took to get him home. "No one's spending Christmas with a possessed and possibly homicidal Lockhart on the loose in the castle", I said.

Fred and George nodded their support. "Mum would kill you if you're the only one who stays behind", George stated.

"Even Bill and Charlie are coming this year", Fred added.

Ron rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's you three who said it was important to free the ruddy house-elf-".

"And you'll have a whole other semester to get that done", I interjected.

Ron continued as if I hadn't said anything. "And it's only Holly who Lockhart wants to kill".

It was my turn to roll my eyes. The first day I started as Flitwick's teacher's aide, the Hogwarts rumor mill was filled with reasons why I had done so. Class schedules were rarely changed at this school. Fred and George told me that they had gotten many questions about where I had gone and if Lockhart had done anything for all the weird things I had said. Adrian too. Except it was the Slytherins interrogating him. Adrian hadn't been pleased when he found out about my new teacher's aide position from a random student. I had to stomach a whole lecture on keeping him in the loop before he'd forgive me. "What about Harry?" I asked my younger brother; planning on using his best friend against him.

Ron frowned and his forehead became wrinkled. "What about him?"

Fred caught on to what I was doing pretty fast. "That's right. This will be Harry's first Christmas with Sirus at his house".

Ron's face softened as he looked down. "You sure you want to take that from him?" George asked Ron.

Ron gave us a guilt-heavy "No", and we knew we had won. "Are you three any closer to getting the diary and stopping Lockhart?" Ron changed the subject; slightly lowering his voice.

We looked around, quickly scanning the room for any eavesdroppers. But, for once, everyone seemed occupied by their own business. "No", Fred answered.

"In fact, Holly's mission to be Lockhart's most hated disliked student was a huge step back", George added as he shot me a glare.

I shook my head but refrained from commenting. My fellow triplets weren't giving me the cold shoulder, lecturing me, or putting slime in my socks; but they still weren't very happy with me and my choices. "We don't know what got into her", Fred continued, lamenting to our younger brother like I wasn't there. "But clearly she isn't as smart as we thought she was".

I stomped his foot from under the table we were using to study. Causing Fred to wince. That would teach him not to insult me when he's pretending that I'm not there. Ron snorted. "I could have told you that". This prat.

Feeling a headache coming on, I dropped my quill and pinched the bridge of my nose. "You do realize that I have a college degree, right? That I've completed some type of school when you guys haven't". I said as I tried to explain that I was, in fact, capable of making smart decisions.

"Jolly Holly", George started; making his voice sound pitying and like he was embarrassed on my behalf. "Spending more time in school than us doesn't mean you're smart".

"If anything, it means you're so slow that you needed all those extra years of school", Fred pointed out.

I turned my head left and right. Fred and George were wearing identical grins and I knew that they had managed to turn me into a punchline again. I frowned and sighed. Why was it always so easy for them to get the last word or win every verbal spar? Is it because there are two of them?

Seeing the change in my expression, George decides to keep this little bit of theirs going. "Oh", he cooed. "Don't worry, Jolly Holly. We still love you". He swung an arm over my shoulders while Fred put an arm around my waist; sandwiching me in.

"Even if you are a little thick", Fred added. "We'll help. Make sure you won't need as much schooling in this life as you did the last". I could feel my face heating up, and the smirk Ron was wearing as he watched all of this wasn't helping. Gits. All of them.

From the other side of the room, I spotted Percy walking towards the portrait exit with his bookbag slung over his shoulder. "Percy!" I called before he could leave; a whiny sound tinging my voice. He stopped and turned in our direction. His eyes scanned all the Gryffindors in the common room as he searches for me. There's no question about who had called him. I'm really the only sibling that seeks him out for help. When his eyes find me, Percy adjusts his glasses. That's my cue to tell him what I wanted. "George, Ron, and Fred are picking on me", I complained as the three in question shot me incredulous looks. No one really tattle-tales in our family. So, me asking for back up is kind of a low blow. But, I mean, come on. It's three against one.

Percy clears his throat and looks at each of our brothers before looking back at me. "Better you than me", he called with a half-shrug as he continued his way out of the common room.

My jaw dropped as my fellow triplets and Ron burst out in laughter; startling some of the other students in the room. That wasn't what I expected. As Ron left to rejoin his friends, and Fred and George continued to bust a gut next to me; I buried my face into the pages of our shared ancient runes book as if to say that I admitted defeat. In my opinion, the holidays couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

Burnt hair. The smell of someone using a flat iron a little too long permeates the air. It's unpleasant and suffocating. And the actual reason as to why the room smells like burnt hair is far worse than someone using a flat iron. "Boys and Girls, please be mindful of where you are aiming your casting", Flitwick reminded his first-year students as I put my hair out for the third time today. With the end of term, fast approaching, Flitwick had decided to teach the first years the fire-making spell. "Something cheery for the holidays", he had said. The students were working in pairs; spread out in the classroom with small piles of kindling in front of them. Flitwick and I were going around to each group correcting wand movements and pronunciation. One boy, in particular, was still holding his wand in an unusual grip, so that had to be corrected too. But that meant Flitwick and I were often in the line of fire. Literally. My hair and robes were getting quite singed. And Flitwick's beard wasn't looking much better. Why do we teach the fire-making spell to first-years anyway? I mean, I remember learning it when I was eleven. I remembered that right after our charms class, Charlie found us and warned us that if he ever caught us playing with that spell, he'd burn our fingertips until we knew better. And he was right. I mean, seriously, teaching the fire-making spell to first-years was the equivalent of giving sixth-graders matches and telling them to go have fun.

From the other side of the room, I watched as a Hufflepuff girl widened her stance slightly. She pointed her wand downward in the direction of the kindling before carefully saying, "incendio". A small spark shot out of her wand and landed in the fibers of the kindling. It smoked a little before petering out. But that didn't seem to matter to the girl. "I did it!" She exclaimed as she smiled giddily to her partner. I found myself smiling despite myself. Cute kid.

"Excellent, Excellent Miss Condor. Good effort", Flitwick praised. Like me, he was probably happy that her attempt didn't lead to more burnt hair.

I turned around so I was facing the students that I was trying to help; Luna Lovegood and a boy from Ravenclaw that I didn't know. "Try again", I instructed. The boy nodded slightly, while Luna seemed to be lost in her own little world. Though I know that she's not daydreaming. If I were to ask her any question right now, she'd answer me. It probably wouldn't be the correct answer, or it would be a weirdly-worded answer. But I knew she was listening.

"In-incendio", the boy first out, and I automatically knew nothing would happen. Charms never worked if you stuttered during the incantation. Though I've found that some curses can be amenable to slips of the tongue. Not a single spark left the boy's wand.

I tried to make my expression sympathetic, but I doubt I was succeeding. "You have to say the incantation in one go and with intention", I reminded. I mean, how hard was it say a spell and mean it?

The boy lowered his wand and sniffled. "I don't like fire", he admitted.

I nodded at him in the place of an actual comment. I had no idea what to say to that. I could tutor the boy on incantations and wand movements all day long. But it wouldn't mean a thing if he wouldn't let his magic react. I turned to Luna. And even though I didn't want to, I said, "Luna, your turn".

The boy took a cautious step back, and I wanted to do the same. But remained still. When Flitwick had first mentioned that he needed help with his first-year class of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, I thought he had said so as just an excuse to get me out of defense. But after observing Luna in class… I learned that Flitwick actually did need an extra pair of eyes to help supervise everything. Even if the only thing I could do in some instances was yell to get his attention. Luna gave me a dreamy little smile that suggested that she wasn't fully awake as she raised her wand. I leaned back ever so slightly. It was always hit or miss with Luna. Sometimes she would cast the assigned spell correctly without any mishaps. Other times, Luna would bring to life whatever thought was flying through her fantastical mind; the assignment be damned. A sparkling purple light shot out of Luna's wand and danced over the kindling. At least she had hit the target this time. It's interesting that Luna, a first-year, could cast magic without incantations. I couldn't do that. And I know that it's something that is taught during NEWT level instruction. I asked Flitwick once why Luna could do nonverbal magic. He had said that it wasn't really nonverbal magic. He said that Luna was a rare case of a student that had yet to grow out of spontaneous magic. Our magic is a part of us; a biological instinct in a world where biology wasn't taught. It would flare up without prompting when we, the organism, were in danger of dying no matter our age or training. It was natural, but for Luna to have spontaneous magic when she wasn't in danger spoke to, what Flitwick called, a freeness of thought that only children have. I think the word he was trying to come up with was imagination. An unbridled imagination. She'd grow out of it; Flitwick had assured me with an edge of regret in his tone. And then, when she was asked to cast spells in class, it would be the assigned spell and not what her imagination substituted it for. But still… As I watched the purple light engulf the kindling, I couldn't help but think that, if what Flitwick said was true, Luna being able to have spontaneous magic directed through her wand was a mark of a genius. The purple sparkling light faded and in its place stood a feathered, clucking, flightless bird.

"It's a chicken", the boy breathed out in relief as I covered my face with my hand. And yes, a chicken is a better outcome compared to some of Luna's previous attempts. I think her last charms partner was still sporting blue spots on his skin.

Luna hummed to herself as she studied the bird pecking at the stone floor. "Yes, that is a chicken", she said after a moment. "You know, I was thinking about breakfast and how good the eggs were this morning. Do you think there's a correlation?" She asked without directing her question to anyone in particular.

"Luna", I said slowly as I wondered if I should have just tried my luck with Lockhart. "This is Charms class, not Transfiguration. We are practicing the fire-making spell. Do you remember the incantation?" I pulled my hand away from my face. Merlin, teaching was hard. Maybe this was why Snape was such a grump. Not because his life didn't work out very well and the love of his life was murdered. But because he had the seemingly impossible task of making children smart enough to survive adulthood.

Luna hummed again and offered no answer to my question. "I suppose I could try again", she said as she raised her wand. This time pointing it at the chicken. Bloody hell.

"No!" the boy exclaimed; drawing the attention of some of the other students. But none of them were surprised by the appearance of the pecking chicken. They had been in class with Luna all semester after all. "Leave Mr. Cluck-cluck alone". I sighed deeply through my nose. Leave it to a first-year to grow emotionally attached to a chicken that was kindling seconds before and name it.

Luna blinked as she stared at the chicken. She didn't lower her wand. "Actually, I think it's Mrs. Cluck-cluck. It's a hen. Not a rooster". Luna tilted her head to the side. "But we are in class. I think I should try again..." She trailed off; eyes narrowing on Mrs. Clu- the chicken. This was the Carrow sisters' influence, wasn't it?

I held up a hand in the universal sign for stop. "You're not setting a chicken on fire", I said in my best big sister voice.

"Oh? But I think Professor Flitwick would be disappointed if I didn't complete the assignment", Luna said in her most lucid voice. It's the most present she's been all class. But at least she lowered her wand.

"You're not setting a chicken on fire", I repeated as I stared at the bird that had wandered over to me and had started pecking at my shoes. If I transfigured Mrs. Cluck-cluck back into kindling would I emotionally scar the boy?

* * *

"My mum is going to love you, Mrs. Cluck-cluck", the boy said as he walked past Fred, George, and I as he stood in line to board the Hogwarts express with the transfigured kindling clucking in a cage. "You're the best Christmas present I've ever gotten her".

I blinked twice before sighing and shaking my head. I was so ready to go home and pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist for a while. "Think Mum will make her cranberry muffins for breakfast tomorrow if we asked nicely?" Fred asked as we waited for our turn to board. It was kind of a free for all boarding the train from Platform nine and three quarters. But when we boarded at Hogsmeade station, the supervising staff made sure the first-years got on first, since they were responsible to make sure no one who wasn't supposed to, got left behind. My fellow triplets and I had already seen Ginny and friends board the train; looking joyful about heading home but not being too loud about it.

"Umm", I said as I thought out loud. "Do you think McGonagall has sent out our report cards yet? We should ask Percy to ask her. She's not going to be too happy with us if she's seen our defense marks", I reasoned. And that is without mentioning my herbology mark. I had gotten an outstanding in potions. That should lessen the blow. Even if the only reason I get good marks in potions is because Adrian is my partner.

George shook his head as we moved up in line. Our trunks had already been loaded, so our arms were free of any burdens. "Percy likes chocolate and pumpkin muffins, and he doesn't like cranberry. What about Ron? Do we know what his marks are?" George asked.

A moment passed as we listened to the sounds of everyone else's conversations. Ron wasn't dumb. In fact, if he tried he could probably rival Percy based on how good he was at chess. But Ron… hated homework… and grammar… and effort. "Maybe if we asked Ginny to ask Mum", I suggested.

"Yeah", Fred said as George nodded. "Let's go with that".

"Weasleys", a familiar voice said as it presented itself. The three of us turned around to see Adrian standing in front of us. "Holly," Adrian continued once he had our attention; only sparing my brothers in a nod of greeting. "May I borrow you for the trip home?" Adrian asked me. He was back to being overly formal now that we were in a public space. Not at all like how he was when we were dueling, alone in the unused classroom. Or all the other times we were alone after that.

I smiled. Spending the whole train wide alone with my boyfriend in a compartment sounded wonderful. Especially since we probably wouldn't get to see each other until school resumed. Mum was very gung-ho about family-time during the holidays. Even more so now that Bill and Charlie had moved out. But before I could answer, a pair of arms wrapped around my middle and one arm swung around my shoulders. "Absolutely not", Fred said. My smile turned into a scowl. I thought they had gotten over this.

"She's our sister, Pucey. Get your own". George said, squeezing my middle extra hard.

Adrian's left eye twitched. "Holly's is your sister", he agreed. "Who happens to be in a relationship with me". He tried to reason. I was surprised that he tried. I thought he would have learned by now that it is impossible to reason with Fred and George when they didn't want to be reasoned with.

"Besides", Fred went on to say as if Adrian hadn't said anything. "This goes against our agreement".

Agreement? "What agreement?" I asked, wrinkling my nose.

My brothers ignored me as Adrian shook his head at me. "There's no agreement", he assured.

"We get Holly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays", Fred continued.

"You get her on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Saturday", George listed off, sounding like he was stating the facts of a custody agreement. Merlin. "And on Sundays, Holly's her own woman". I love these two brothers of mine. I love them more than I have ever loved anything or anyone else in both of my lives, but… they can be so embarrassing!

Before I could retort. Before I could tell all three boys that I was my own woman every day of the week, a shadow fell over all of us. "My! Miss Weasley sure is a popular young lady".

A chill ran up my spine as Fred tensed, and George's hold on me tightened even more. Adrian stepped closer and turned around so his back was facing us as he stood between my fellow triplets and I and Lockhart. Today, Lockhart had chosen to wear glimmering blue robes with white trim. It matched well with the cold weather and his blonde hair. But it felt too innocent for what Fred, George, and I knew was lurking inside of him. Lockhart smiled at all of us like he was doing us a great favor by standing in front of us. So, was he Lockhart right now? Or Riddle?

Flitwick's plan had worked. I hadn't talked to Lockhart since that incident in defense class and only saw him in the great hall or passing in the hallways when there were plenty of people around. Not that he hadn't tried to get me alone. Whenever I was out and about in the hallways or the grounds, I always felt like someone was haunting my steps and that eyes were always watching me. But I was never alone. I always made sure there was someone around to witness if anything strange happened. "Already to go home for the holidays?" Lockhart asked.

"Yes, Sir". Adrian answered; his voice low in warning. Adrian's threat to go to the board of governs was still standing, as far as I knew. But from what I've been told, Lockhart hadn't used magic on another student in class since Adrian initially stood up to him. I don't know if that was because Adrian's threat was effective or if Dumbledore had done something to protect the students from Lockhart's teaching methods.

"Very good", Lockhart said. But he hardly looked at Adrian. Instead, he locked eyes with me. "I've missed having you in class, Miss Weasley. You missed a very exciting reenactment of the Christmas dinner I spent with hags. I had a part that you would have been perfect for". My hand curled into a fist. Oh, I'm sure you did. I thought. "You switched out of my class to become a teacher's aide. Is that correct? That you have an interest in a career in education?"

"Yes, sir", I said; my voice coming out surprisingly steady. Though, Lockhart/Riddle wasn't that scary when I was standing at Hogsmeade station surrounded by my brothers and other members of staff who would see if anything bad happened.

"Why?" Lockhart asked.

Fred and George piped up before I could. "Oh, Holly's always liked kids", said Fred.

"And school", George tacked on.

"Can't get enough of either of them", they said together.

But Lockhart wasn't distracted. His eyes stayed on me; waiting for an answer. He was searching for something. That was clear to me. But I couldn't figure out what. "Hogwarts is like a home to me", I said. Deciding that, even though it was probably stupid, I'd feed Lockhart the story that I knew about Riddle's young adult years. The part where he applied to Hogwarts as a teacher because the school was the only home he knew and because he wanted to teach the dark arts to gain more followers. Surely, sixteen-year-old Riddle had started to have those thoughts. Or at least, I'm assuming. If I am wrong, then what I'm saying wouldn't make any sense. "I'd like to teach here in the future". And if I'm right, what I say will hopefully keep Lockhart's/Riddle's wheels spinning for a while. "Though I wish they taught the dark arts here".

Fred, George, and Adrian shot me looks that told me I would have to explain to them what I meant about what I just said. But the worst look I got was from Lockhart. It wasn't an angry look or even a mean look. Lockhart's façade didn't even crack. His smile remained impeccable, though it did, for some creepy unknown reason, seem to become more genuine than fake. Something glinted in his blue eyes. Something that spoke of hunger and… was that pride? A second shiver traveled up my spine.

The train whistle blew and the other members of staff present started to hurriedly gesture for more students to board the train. I'm not sure why. I doubt the train would leave until one of the staff members gave the conductor the go-ahead. "You four should get on the train", our defense professor said; sounding less and less like Lockhart. George moved first. He unwrapped his arms from my middle and grabbed my hand. With Fred's arm still around my shoulders, George started to pull the both of us towards the train. Adrian came too; Following close behind. I wish that I was holding his hand too. "And merry Christmas", Lockhart called from behind us.


	60. Train Wreck

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Train Wreck

Sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts express by the window, I had my elbows balanced on my knees and my hands covering my face. Of all the ways Fred, George, and Adrian could have potentially been bought together to form a unified front, this was not how I imagined it occurring. "Why are you so strange?" Adrian asked from where he was sitting next to me; closest to the door. "You understand why abruptly stating you want to teach the dark arts at Hogwarts is strange, right?" Adrian asked like he needed to make sure I got where he was coming from.

I nodded but didn't pick my head up from my hands. "I… had to say something", I tried to defend myself. But it sounded weak even to my ears.

From the other side of the compartment, Fred snorted. "And the dark arts were the first thing that came to mind?" He asked without expecting an answer. This time, I do raise my head so I can scowl at my brother. He should know… or at least, I hoped he knew that I have a reason to bring up the dark arts to Lockhart/Riddle. And why I couldn't explain myself while Adrian was with us.

"You know me, Fred", I glowered. "The dark arts are my go-to excuse from avoiding psychotic professors to getting out of helping Mum with the laundry". Sarcasm dripped off every word as Fred grinned sardonically at me. He knew I was in a difficult spot with Adrian and he thought I deserved it. I'd call him a git if he wasn't right.

George chose to take a less combative approach than Fred and I was. "You didn't just say something, Holls. It was like you egged him on". Something sank heavily in my gut. Yeah… Yeah, I had only encouraged Lockhart. But it wasn't like it could have been avoided. This all started when I had pointed my wand at Lockhart during that quidditch game and now I was too deep down the rabbit hole to turn back.

"Yes, thank you!" Adrian said with force as he waved a hand at George before angling his body towards me. "Holly, listen to your brother", which was something I never thought I would ever hear Adrian say. "He's surprisingly insightful".

I stare at Adrian with my mouth hanging open as George's face forms a frown. My boyfriend was agreeing with my brothers. And what's more, they were agreeing on the fact that I had screwed up. I didn't think we were far along enough in our relationship for that to happen.

"Pucey, I'll have you know that I'm always insightful", George said in his best indignant voice.

I had to think of a way to spin this. I had to come up with a way that would make congruent sense to Adrian. It wouldn't get me off the hook. I knew that. I was okay with that as long as Adrian was convinced he didn't need to get involved in the game of cat and mouse that I was playing with Lockhart. "Adrian", I said; turning to face him and choosing to ignore George. George was insightful. He'd understand. "I'm not in Lockhart's class anymore. He can't do anything to me. So, isn't it better that he's focused on me and not someone he has in one of his classes?" I asked Adrian; hoping that neither Fred nor George would answer. Because they know the answer is no. It wasn't better. Not when Lockhart had control over a basilisk.

Adrian scoffed at me in disbelief. "No, he answered rather quickly.

"Here, Here!" Fred and George chimed in the background.

"No, Holly", Adrian continued. "It's not better. What if he manages to get to you when you're alone? You couldn't even get one spell to hit me when we dueled-"

"Wait, what?" George asked.

"When did you duel our sister?" Fred asked a second after George.

"Do you honestly think you can best a fully-grown wizard?" Adrian finished his argument.

I shrugged with my palms facing upward. "I don't know". I admitted; voice coming out at a higher octave. I knew Adrian was right. Against Riddle, I didn't stand a chance. Against Lockhart… maybe. It was Lockhart after all. "If Lockhart conners me I'll… kick him in the balls", I said. And that was a pretty effective technique when dealing with males. Assuming that you kicked them hard enough. … And if they weren't straddling you with the tip of a knife pressed against your chest.

Their silence caught my attention. My eyes flickered between their faces. All of them were staring at me with dumbfounded expressions. "Jolly Holly", Fred started; sounding slightly distressed. "Do you honestly think that would work?"

"Yes", I answered easily. I was actually feeling kind of confused about why they didn't think it would work. I mean, they're boys. They should get it. Adrian, Fred, and George let out groans of frustration at the same time. "I know it does", I continued; trying to turn this conversation around. "I've done it before".

"When?" George asked, sounding as if he suspected me of lying.

At the same time, Fred asked, "To who?" Meanwhile, Adrian's eyes bore into me with their steely grey gaze.

I bit my lip. I had an answer for them. It's just… this was a part of me that had been dead for a long time. "Jessie…" I started to say very slowly. "Got around". Fred and George were staring at me like they didn't know who I was anymore. While Adrian ran a hand over his face. "I had to… I mean, she had to get herself out of a few scary situations". I wasn't sure why I was still talking. Judging by the looks on Fred and George's faces, they wanted me to stop. But I didn't. "So, if Lockhart corners me, I'll be fine as long as I kick him hard enough".

"Merlin, Holly", Fred complained. "And did you try to kick the man who killed you in your last life?"

I frowned. "Fred, that's not-" But I was cut off. Adrian stood up and grabbed my upper arm; pulling me to my feet. "Adrian?" I asked.

"I'm taking her for a bit", he told my fellow triplets.

"Please do", Fred said with a haggard shake of his head.

"We could use a break", George added.

"Just bring her back before we reach King's Cross. Our mum would kill us if we lost her".

* * *

Adrian didn't look at me or say anything as he led me from train car to train car; all the way until we got to the caboose. Even then he remained silent until we were standing outside on the little balcony cabooses have. I think they're supposed to be used as an emergency exit. Adrian lets go of my hand and turns around to slide the door closed behind us. I wait by grasping the rallying with both hands. My heart pounds furiously against my ribcage; giving me the feeling that one gets when one's anticipating bad news. At the speed the train is going, the icy winter winds whip around and slap our skin bitterly as the scenery blurs by. Adrian comes to stand next to me; our shoulders touching. He leans his forearms on the railings and laces his fingers together on the other side. He sighs. "You're exhausting". Adrian said loud enough for me to hear over the rushing winds. I neither confirmed nor denied it. It wasn't like I was trying to be a pain. I wasn't trying to wear Adrian out or make Fred and George go prematurely gray. I had just been… well, it's not just me, I suppose. We all had been dealt a pretty awful hand this year. Adrian let out an exasperated, breathless laugh. "I don't know if I want to slaughter Lockhart for putting us in this situation or throw you off this train for not listening to me".

I flinched at his words; slightly regretting coming out here with him. But I wasn't too concerned. I had faith that Adrian wouldn't do the latter of those two things. "But you won't". I answered.

Adrian shook his head. "No, I won't", he agreed. "Do you know why?" I don't get a chance to answer before he continued; leaving his question hanging in the air, unanswered. "I wouldn't be surprised if you did know why, because it occurred to me that you know a fair amount about who I was. Yet, I don't know anything about who you were".

He was close. Dangerously close to things that I didn't want him to know. But at least he was still a good distance away from anything Harry Potter series related. "You know that I was an American. And a muggle". I refuted.

"You know what I mean", Adrian said with a bit more bite in his tone.

I let go of the railings with one of my hands as I turned to face Adrian. He mirrored me; unlacing his fingers so we could face each other. "What happened to past lives being private?"

"So, you get to know about Regulus, but I don't get to know about Jessie?" Adrian countered.

I pressed my tongue against the back of my teeth and pulled it back; making a clicking sound. This was check and damn close to checkmate. There was no requirement for me to tell Adrian about Jessie. But not telling him would place a big gap without a bridge between us. I raised a hand to push some hair out of my face and rub my eyes. "If you knew me as Jessie, you wouldn't like me".

Adrian rolled his eyes. "If you had known me as Regulus, you would've feared me. Jessie and Regulus would have never met, but if they had, I probably would've hurt you for being something you can't control". Adrian took a step closer. I had to tilt my head back to accommodate. "Anything we feel for each other only exists between Holly and Adrian. And when you can accept who I was so easily I struggle to understand why you think I can't accept Jessie". There was a pause as Adrian brushed a hand over the top of his hair. He looked away briefly before turning back with a new thought. "As you said, I already know you were a muggle. What could be worse than that?"

For a moment, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together. When I opened them; the words came out. "Adrian, I wasn't a good person".

Adrian scoffed. "Neither was I".

I touched my forehead as if I had a headache. "No, I mean I wasn't a part of a group that targeted another group of people. I just…" I let go of the railing with my other hand and tapped my fingertips on top of it; momentarily getting distracted by blurred colors of the passing scenery. "Didn't live for anything. I was empty. No purpose. No altruistic goal. I only did what felt good in the moment. The only reason I held down a job was so I'd have a way to pay for fun nights out and three-day weekend trips to Las Vegas". Of course, I had also paid my own rent and bills, but that wasn't my… Jessie's main motivation. I felt like I had just swallowed a lemon, but I kept talking. "I only called my mom after she left many voicemails begging me to call her back. My older brother would text me asking for help and I'd ignore him. My friends were more designated drivers than actual friends. Hell, I had… Jessie had a new boyfriend every time daylight savings occurred". In the back of my head, I knew I was saying a lot of things Adrian wouldn't know about; Las Vegas, voicemail, texting. But that didn't seem to matter. It became too hard to maintain eye contact with Adrian, so I stared at my shoes. "Sometimes I had multiple boyfriends. I… Jessie went on dates with married men… And I didn't care who got hurt along the way." I trailed off as my voice started to sound moist. I don't like being vulnerable. To me, vulnerability was too close to unpredictability. And yet, here I was; baring all my sins before Adrian. Well… all except one. "I didn't deserve to die the way that I did. No one deserves that. But… I think dying was the best thing that happened to me. To my soul".

Seconds felt like an hour as I stood rim-rod still; waiting for Adrian's judgment. Surely, I was about to become single again. Or maybe Adrian really would toss me off the back of this train. But neither of these things happened. Instead, he took both of my hands into his; the one that was hanging at my side and the one still tapping the railing. "Regulus would have done anything for the recognition of our… his parents. Even though he knew that whatever he did would never be enough". With a deep breath, I found the strength to look up. Adrian's steady gaze was there to greet me when I did. Bloody hell. How did he get to be this way? This...this sturdy guy who seemed to be at peace with his past life when I was still trying to bury mine? "I felt empty", Adrian admitted. "I made a big mistake. I crossed a line without even stopping to consider the consequences. I was too empty to care". I think he was assuming that I thought he was talking about his time as a death eater, and not specifically the locket. Adrian had never mentioned the locket, and he didn't know that I knew about it. "When I realized what I had done, I did what I could to set it right and I died". Adrian squeezed both of my hands. "I don't regret it. I prefer being Adrian Pucey. And I am a better man because of my current parents".

"Same", I agreed, a bit breathlessly. It was still too soon to tell if this was working out in my favor. But I had hope. "Um… I mean, my new parents and siblings make me a better person. Not a man. I'm not a man". I clarified. "I'd do anything for my family". I stated, which was probably the biggest contrast between Jessie and me. Err.. well, the biggest contrast between my old self and my new self. I was Jessie, after all. Just as much as I was Holly.

"I would do anything for my parents too". Adrian said. "There's nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for their safety or for the safety of my little cousins. My previous brother too. Although, he may be a lost cause". Adrian's grip on my hands became a little tighter.

Something clicked in my mind; like a puzzle piece that just fell into place. "That's why you helped Harry when that bludger was attacking", I muttered more to myself.

But Adrian heard me, and he responded. "Yes, if something happened to Potter, Sirius would be hurt. He's not my main priority, I confess. There are others I would place ahead of Regulus' brother. But he is still important to me". Adrian squeezed my hands tighter. "I imagine it's similar to why you threatened Lockhart with your wand at that quidditch game".

"He was going to vanish your ribs", I interjected.

"Despite coming from different backgrounds, you and I are very much alike", Adrian said as his grip became punishing.

"Adrian", I said as I tried to wiggle my hands out of his.

But he wouldn't budge. "I'd kill for my family. And I think, if forced into the right situation, you would too". Adrian's voice filled with conviction. Like a debater about to present his winning argument. "I and you, Holly Weasley, are not good people. We'd gladly set the world on fire if it meant preserving what little good we have". I was starting to lose feeling in my fingertips but had become too distracted by what Adrian was saying to really complain. "You are something good in my life. And if you keep making rash decisions or if you keep putting yourself in dangerous situations, you'll force my hand".

Adrian let go and immediately I started rubbing my fingers to get my circulation going. But that did not slow down the onslaught of confusion I was feeling. What exactly was Adrian trying to say? "Is that a threat?" I asked.

Adrian used his right index finger to tuck some hair behind my ear before using the same finger to trace the curve of my cheek. "More like a warning", he said in a gentler voice than he had used previously. I think I should be scared. For some reason, I feel like I should be worried about what Adrian was hinting at. But I didn't feel anything other than relief. Relief that Jessie wasn't a deal-breaker, and that Adrian was still in the mist about the Harry Potter Series.

* * *

Having burnt off a lot of our tension, standing outside on the little caboose balcony soon became too cold. So, Adrian and I went back inside the train car. At this point, we were probably about half-way to platform nine and three quarters. There was zero chance of finding an empty compartment. So we chose to loiter in the train cars' aisles; wandering from car to car if we got bored, but without any clear destination in mind. Twice, we had to step into other students' compartments to let the trolley witch pass us. The first time, Adrian purchased a pumpkin pastie from her, which we shared. But the second time she shot us a warning look. It was the kind of look all adults give teenagers when they think that they are up to no good.

Conversation was sporadic. Sometimes, we found the energy to ask or say what questions and thoughts still haunted our minds. Other times, we got back into our normal flow of banter. "Out of curiosity", I would start. "How were you planning on killing Lockhart?"

Adrian snorted. "I'm not telling you. I might have to follow through with that plan, and I highly doubt you could manage being questioned by aurors".

In a different train car, Adrian said, "You need to apologize to your doppelganger-brothers. They looked like they were going to die from stress aneurysms caused by everything you were saying".

I nudged a compartment door with the edge of my foot. "I know, I know", I said; blushing a bit at the guilt. "I feel like all I've done these last couple of weeks is apologize".

Adrian's eyes glinted with humor. "Hmm, I wonder why that is".

I frowned at him without meaning it. "Haha".

In the next train car, I tried to explain Las Vegas. "It's a very popular city in America. There are lots of casinos and shows and neon lights, and… lots of alcohol. It also has its own saying, 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas'".

Adrian's brow wrinkles in confusion. "Why? What happens there that it has to stay there?"

"umm… well…." I couldn't think of an answer for him.

Two train cars later, Adrian stopped us in the middle of the aisle. "Before Lockhart made his appearance", Adrian started with an eye roll. "I wanted to ask if you wanted to attend my parents annual new years' eve party with me".

I inched closer to him. "A party?"

"Yes, my mother invites all her friends and our family, and my father uses it as a chance to wine and dine new clients". Adrian reaches out and starts massaging the skin around my wrist. "It isn't anything exciting. But I thought you might like to go with me".

I smiled as we started walking again. "I'll have to ask. But I'll write to you once I know".

In the train car where we had left Fred and George, Adrian stopped me outside of their compartment. "I have to ask", he said with an edge in his voice that warned me that this wasn't going to be as light-hearted as our previous topics. "Are going to stop being stupid and walk away the next time Lockhart approaches you?"

This time, even though it was hard, I maintained eye contact. "No".


	61. Gathering at the Burrow

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Gathering at the Burrow

Pots and pans were clanging in the kitchen as Mum acted like a hurricane of productivity. "Are you not finished yet?" She asked as she cleared the table of the breakfast dishes. "Charlie's going to be here any minute". With the wave of her wand, the faucet over the kitchen sink started to run and soap flakes floated into the water. "And you're still in your pajamas", Mum tsked as she walked behind Ron's chair and pulled his plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs out from under his nose.

"Hey!" Ron complained around a mouthful of food. But it wasn't a big travesty. That was his third helping.

"Do you want Charlie to see you dressed like that?" Mum asked as scrapped the food on Ron's plate into the bin before adding it to the dirty dishes pile.

Ron shot a miffed expression at Mum's back. "He's my brother. He doesn't care what I look like".

Mum acted like she hadn't heard him. "Go get dressed, please", she told her youngest son. "And while you're at, clean your room".

Grumbling to himself, Ron stood up from his chair and headed for the stairs. "I've only been home one day and she's already making me do chores", Ron muttered under his breath. But he didn't dare disobey. Cleaning his room wasn't the worst thing Mum could potentially ask him to do when she was in the middle of one of her cleaning frenzies.

With Ron gone, that just left me sitting at the kitchen table. Ginny and Percy had been assigned tasks earlier on. Percy was responsible for the tidiness of the family room and Ginny got the dreaded task of cleaning the bathrooms. Fred and George were still asleep. Or they were staying in their room until they were sure that all the chores had been handed out. I managed to take a sip from the glass of pumpkin juice sitting in front of me before Mum's eyes turn to me. "I already collected the eggs from the chickens. I'll measure out the rest of the ingredients and you can start mixing the dough".

I stood up and drained my glass in one gulp. "Isn't it too early to make cookies?" I asked as I walked over to the sink to add my glass to the pile. "Bill loves decorating cookies for Christmas. Shouldn't we wait for him to come home?"

Mum pulled out her measuring cups from one of the cabinets before crossing the room towards the shelf that contained her mixing bowls. She only uses measuring cups when she has help in the kitchen. On her own, Mum would just eyeball it. "Of course we're not baking cookies today", she said as if I had just said something funny. "We need bread for sandwiches and I thought we could start on the other holiday baking I have planned". I had to move out of the way so she could get to the containers that hold the flour and sugar. "There's muffins for breakfast, cranberry orange bread, the individual pies your father loves, the rum cake for Great Aunt Muriel, fudge for Ron and…" Mum paused and turned around dramatically with the flour container clutched in her hands. "I thought you might like to learn how to make my yule log cake". Mum smiled.

My heart skipped a beat. "Your famous yule log cake?" I asked with excitement. Mum nodded with enthusiasm. "You've never let me help you with that before. You said I was too young".

Mum walked over to the table and placed it down next to the mixing bowls and the measuring cups. She wiped her hands on her apron, even though we hadn't started baking yet, before turning around to face me. She took two steps forward with a raised hand to pat my left cheek. "You're ready", she declared. I beamed. This was the best news I've gotten all year. It was like the passing of a torch or a right of passage. "But", Mom said in a more serious manner as she withdrew her hand. "Not until we're finished with the others".

* * *

My sleeves were rolled up and my hands were caked in flour. Mum was humming Celestina Warbeck's greatest hits under her breath as she stood over the stove; working on the pie filling. While I was applying the rolling pin to the dough for the pie crusts. It felt nice to be back in Mum's domain. Her kitchen was a safe and warm place where evil did not exist and the worst thing that could happen was accidentally burning the bread. The fireplace flared with green flames as I rubbed more flour on the rolling pin to keep the dough from sticking to it. Mum dropped her ladle in the pot filled with pie filling. She turned around in anticipation. I was a bit slower. "Charlie!" She greeted as soon as the flames faded revealing her second-born son standing in a buckskin jacket and a knapsack hanging off one shoulder.

"Hi Mum", Charlie barely got out before Mum was pulling him into a hug. "Mum, you'll get soot on your clothes", Charlie tried to warn her. But it was too late.

Mum wrapped her arms around him; trapping his arms to his sides. She squeezed him hard. If Charlie were a balloon he would have popped. After a few seconds, Mum broke their hug and held Charlie at arm's length. "A bit thin", she stated. "What have you been eating?"

Charlie smiled placatingly. "Nothing that compares to your cooking, Mum".

And as if that was all the prompting she needed, Mum let go of Charlie and turned towards the icebox. "There's some left off Shepard's pie from last night. That should tide you over until lunch".

Charlie smiled at her back as he stepped further into the kitchen. He let his bag slip off his shoulder and placed it on the ground next to one of the table's legs. "Hey, Holls", he said; coming up behind me.

I set the rolling pin down and turned around. "Charlie", I greeted as I stood on my tip-toes to hug him. He made no comment about the flour handprints I was making on his jacket. "How're the dragons?" I asked after we separated.

Charlie shrugged in his usual easy-going manner. "Still alive", he answered. "How's school?"

I followed Charlie's example and shrugged. "I haven't died yet".

Mum tutted as she appeared back at Charlie's side with a magically warmed piece of Shepard's pie on a plate. "You shouldn't joke about such things", Mum lightly scolded me as she handed Charlie the plate. "Now, you take this and take your bag upstairs to your room. You shouldn't leave it on the floor. Someone could trip", she said as she bustled back to the stove and her pie filling. Charlie gave me another shrug, this one with a closed-lipped smile before he grabbed his bag and started for the stairs. "And while you're at it, tell Fred and George to come down", Mum called after him. "I need them to clean the fireplace".

* * *

"Bill!" Ginny squealed as she practically threw herself down the stairs to get to him faster. It had taken about a day being back at home, but the overly poised and quiet Slytherin first-year had gone on vacation and the Ginny we had all watched grow up came back with vengeance.

Bill took a hurried step further so he could catch the youngest member of our family before she fell on her face. "Oomph", Bill vocalized as he wrapped his arms around her as she came in contact with his chest. "Gin! Where's the fire?" Bill asked, trying to express how she shouldn't be moving so fast throughout the house but without taking on a bossy tone. Despite being the eldest of eight, Bill never was one for giving orders. Bossy just didn't fit into his persona.

Ginny acted like she hadn't heard Bill's concern at all. "You're finally here!" She exclaimed. "Now we can play quidditch and race on the brooms. Fred, George, Ron, and Charlie have been flying since Charlie came home. But they wouldn't let me play quidditch with them because then the teams would be uneven since both Percy and Holly refuse to play-"

Bill set Ginny down on her feet as I called out from the kitchen table, "If humans were meant to fly we would've been born with wings". Bill and Ginny ignored me. But from the other side of the table, Percy gave me a look filled with camaraderie. At least one person in my family understood why not every living thing was meant to be airborne. The both of us had sheets of parchments in front of us. There was a quill in each of our hands and we were sharing an inkwell. After asking many many times; to the point that it was becoming very annoying, Mum and Dad had finally caved. Well… Dad caved first and then convinced Mum. But they had agreed that I could go to Adrian's family's New Year's Eve party. And now I get to write a letter to him to inform him about the good news. Percy, likewise, was writing to Miss Penelope Clearwater with all the good tidings that the season has to offer. And I imagine a bunch of mushy romantic stuff as well.

"That sounds fun, Gin". Bill placated. "But not today. How about tomorrow? I want to unpack and just hang out today".

Ginny frowned. But didn't do more than that. She didn't even stomp a foot. Which was an approvement of her maturity compared to the last Christmas we all spent together. "Fine", she said with a huff as she turned to leave the kitchen.

Bill smiled after her before turning to face us. "Hey Perce, Holly", he greeted; walking closer to stand behind Percy's chair. Bill reached out and mussed the hair of our glasses-wearing brother. Percy scowled down at his half-written letter but didn't doing anything to stop Bill. Bill, as our eldest brother, was the only one who could get away with such a belittling act; as Percy would have described it. "How are you doing?"

"Very well, thank you", Percy answered a bit stiffly. It would take him probably the rest of the day before he fully warmed up to having Bill home again. It must be hard being the only introvert in a family of extroverts. Wait…. Was I an extrovert? Ambivert maybe. Either way, Percy had the hardest time with our chaotic family. "As expected, I'm finding NEWT classes to be enlightening".

Bill took the overly pompous reply in stride and nodded along with Percy as if he agreed completely. "Good. Good". Bill had to say the word 'good' twice to really express how much he approved. "Holly, how about you?"

I shrugged as I added a period to the last sentence I had written before looking up at my eldest brother. "I'm okay. Glad that we have a break from school. How's Egypt?"

"Hot", came Bill's quick response. And looking closer at him; Bill had developed a nice tan from the last time I had seen him. His complexion kind of reminded me of browned potato from a pot roast. "But it's cooler inside the pyramids, at least". Bill answered with a shrug. "Where's everyone else?"

"Mum's tending to the chickens and Dad got called into work", Percy answered; but forgot everyone else in our family.

"Fred and George are in their room hiding from Mum", I continued. I had a nightmare last night, so I had ended up in Fred and George's room and knew they were working on a new invention that Mum wouldn't approve of. Especially since there was some sort of vibrant green gunk currently staining their floor. "And Charlie and Ron are playing chess in the family room".

"And what are you two doing? Writing letters to Father Christmas?" Bill asked teasingly. Santa Claus wasn't really a thing in the wizarding world. At least, not as much as it is in the muggle world. But as inter-magical relationships became more common and wizards were marrying muggles or muggleborns more and more of muggle culture was being introduced to our society. Santa Claus wasn't something we did at the Burrow. Though Dad did try to introduce it one year after he learned about it from a muggleborn co-worker. But it never stuck. Percy had been terrified at the prospect of a strange man climbing down our chimney. Charlie and Bill had been too old to really get behind the magic that is Santa Claus. Fred and George didn't care. And Ginny and Ron had asked for things that Mum and Dad couldn't afford. Still, knowing about the muggle Christmas tradition enabled us to make references. Which I appreciated because half the time my references tended to pass by unnoticed.

Percy opened his mouth to respond, but I beat him to it. "Percy's writing sweet nothings to he sweetheart as he confesses his undying devotion", I said in an overdramatic fashion in a way that only an embarrassing little sister can. Percy glared at me as he adjusted his glasses indignantly while Bill swallowed a laugh. "And I'm accepting an invitation from…. A friend".

Percy cleared his throat. "A friend that she is currently seeing romantically", he corrected. Payback glinted in Percy's eyes as Bill stiffened. Ah, hell.

"And what sort of friend would this be?", Bill asked; using the word 'friend' for lack of a better one.

"Of the Slytherin Variety", Percy answered.

Bill looked at me like he had just caught me pawning off a prized family heirloom. "Oh, come on", I said; shifting in my seat at their scrutiny. "We can't be biased against Slytherins anymore. Ginny's in Slytherin!"

"Ginny's still a Weasley", Bill argued. "That cancels out anything negative about being a Slytherin".

I rolled my eyes. "Adrian's decent. I promise", I said; hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

"Adrian?" Bill asked with a scrunched-up nose. "Adrian… Pucey?" He asked Percy. Percy confirmed with a head nod. "Isn't that the same boy you were potions partners with your first year?" Bill asked another question; this time directed at me. Bill's seventh-year had been Fred's, George's, and my first-year. And when Snape had first stuck me with Adrian, we had acted like it was a catastrophe. Bill probably remembered how we had whined and complained about how painful it was to have one of us sitting apart on the other side of the room. When I didn't offer an answer to his question, Bill figured he was right. He sighed deeply as if he felt extremely bothered. "Just remember, Holly. That it doesn't hurt to keep your options open". With that said, Bill turned to walk outside. Probably to find Mum to tell her that he's home and to get her usual lecture about haircuts over with.

I directed my line of sight to Percy. "How come no one ever gives you a hard time about dating Penelope?"

Percy answered in a voice that I found to be far too smug. "That would be because Penelope is a joy to be around and doesn't associate with questionable company". I feel like I should be offended.

* * *

It was Christmas Eve; post-dinner. Mum had made a Turkey with dressing, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Everyone was currently in the family room; sitting around the fireplace and trying to work themselves out of their food comas. I was tempted to join them but I saw a golden opportunity and decided to take it. With everyone being home it was hard to get access to the bathroom to have a proper shower. But with everyone content with sitting lethargically in the family room, I knew this was my chance. Still, I worked fast as I rubbed and rinsed off soap all over my body. Mum would probably be serving hot cocoa soon and Bill would start telling us stories about his travels around Egypt as he broke into Pyramids. I didn't want to miss anything. The last thing I did was shampoo my hair. We all tend to use the same shampoo. Something simple that just smells like soap. But I had been gifted a bottle of Shampoo from Alicia before we had gone on break. "It smells like green tea and should help you get some more volume to your hair", she had said. So, I decided to try it. It didn't take me long to lather it into my hair and I enjoyed the feeling of it on my hands. I closed my eyes and stepped directly under the showerhead to rinse it all out. I didn't really care about things like hair volume. At least, not in this life. But who knows? Maybe I would like the effect of the shampoo, if it had any, and use it again before I went to the Puceys' New Year's Eve party. With that job done, I turned off the water before opening my eyes and stepping out of the tub. Immediately, the chilled floor made me shiver. I wrapped a towel around myself, before throwing my bathrobe on. Stepping up to the bathroom mirror, I raised the sleeve of my bathrobe to wipe it free of steam. I'd braid my hair before I got dressed in my pajamas. That way my hair wouldn't get too tangled during the night. But when I was able to see my reflection, hair braiding was the last thing on my mind. Green. That was the only thing I could think. Green. Green hair. My hair was green! There wasn't a single strand of hair that I could see that hadn't been spared. I was green. My mouth hung open as I started at my expression; frozen. I looked like the bloody Grinch!

It was that thought that got me moving. "Fred! George!" I yelled as I flung open the bathroom door and charged down the stairs. As soon as I reached the ground floor, I pivoted on my heel to rush into the family room where I knew the culprits would be.

"Holly?" Mum asked as she stood nearby; holding a tray with ten steaming mugs balanced on top. "What on Earth…."

I didn't slow down to tell her what was wrong. Once she got a good look at me, she'd understand. In the family room, Dad was lounging in his favorite overstuffed armchair. Percy and Bill were sharing the couch. Mum's rocker was empty; probably waiting for her return. Ginny was perched on the arm of Dad's chair with her arm resting over Dad's shoulders. While Fred, George, and Ron were spread out on the floor. At the sight of me, my family's eyes grew wide. Minus Fred and George; who immediately threw their heads back and laughed. "You dyed my hair green", I stated; just to bring everyone else in the room up to speed. "Why would you dye my hair green?"

Fred took two deep breaths to calm his laughter before he answered me with a grin. "We thought you'd like a festive look for the holidays".

George calmed down as well as he added, "Now you match the Christmas tree".

I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose as Mum came up behind me. "Fred, George", she said in a low scolding voice. "That wasn't kind", she tried. But no one is really surprised. The rest of my family recovers. Bill and Charlie are trying their hardest not to look at me as they covered their mouths with their hands to keep from laughing. Percy is eyeing Fred and George with suspicion. He's probably going to check the rest of the hair products we keep in the house to make sure that he doesn't end up with festive hair. While Ron, Dad, and Ginny continued to stare. As if they were afraid that my hair would suddenly come alive and attack them.

"Just think Jolly Holly", Fred started to say, completely ignoring Mum. "We could hang ornaments in your hair and you'll be the fanciest person at Pucey's party".

My eyebrow twitched. Taking two little steps followed by one big step, I was standing in front of my fellow triplets. I dropped down so I was eye level with Fred and George; mindful that I currently only had a towel and bathrobe on. I should have seen this coming or suspected something. It had been a long time since Fred and George had pulled a prank on me. They had hardly pulled any pranks this year; what with everything going on with the Angelina competition and Lockhart. "This means I'm going to have to get back at you guys, you know that, right?"

Fred grinned as George said, "We were counting on it".


	62. A Very Weasley Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A Very Weasley Christmas

I woke up on a trampoline. Or what felt like a trampoline. "Holly, wake up!" Ginny whined as she jumped up and down on my bed; one foot on either side of my legs.

I groaned deeply without opening my eyes. I wanted to roll over so my face would be hidden by the wall that my bed was placed up against. But refrained from doing so because I didn't want Ginny to get knocked off balance if I got in the way of her jumping.

"Mum said that we can't open presents until everyone is up and you're the last one still in bed". She said in between her bounces.

"You're too old for this", I mumbled as I absolutely refused to be swayed. I could fall back to sleep. If I really set my mind to it, I can fall back to sleep… if Ginny ever stops bouncing… How do I get her to stop bouncing?

An easy-going chuckle announced the presence of another person. I groaned a second time out of utter anguish. Oh, no… Ginny had brought backup. "Holly, no one is ever too old for presents", the other person said as the bouncing stopped and Ginny's weight vanished from my bed.

I cracked open a bleary eye just in time to watch Bill return Ginny to the floor before he loomed over me; smiling. "Can't you open mine for me?"

Ginny huffed. "Mum won't let us". Clearly, her masterplan had been spoiled by Mum's desire to have the whole family together.

I opened my other eye and fully turned my head on my pillow so I could see both my youngest and oldest sibling. Bill was smiling to suggest that he was amused with this entire situation while Ginny was fidgeting impatiently at his side. I sighed a 'woe is me' sigh, but ultimately give up on sleeping longer. At least this is a nicer wake-up call that carols by Fred and George. I sat up and ignored Ginny's accomplished expression as I ran a hand through my messy and very green hair. Mum had tried to charm it back to its natural color last night. But the dye Fred and George had made was proving to be immune to magic. I turned towards Bill. "Carry me?"

Bill snorted as he turned around and squatted. I threw off my covers to free my legs so I could crawl over to Bill. Ginny grinned as she watched this whole progression. As I wrapped my arms around Bill's neck and climbed onto his back, Ginny said, "I'll go tell Mum that everyone's finally ready".

Bill reached behind him to grab my legs before he stood up. Ginny was already out the door as I adjusted to the new height. I rested my chin on Bill's shoulder as he started walking. With our heads so close together, his red hair clashed with my green hair. But Fred and George were right. It was a very festive look for the holiday season. "Did you sleep well?" Bill asked as he started down the stairs.

"Uh-huh", I answered. "I dreamt that I was sleeping beauty. Except I didn't have a prince and I got to sleep for all eternity. It was marvelous".

Bill laughed once as he stepped off the last step onto the first floor. "Holly, you're a weird kid. You know that, right?"

I yawned into his shoulder. "With a family as big as ours, odds are; at least one of us had to be weird".

Dad came in from the garden with his winter cloak fastened over his pajamas. He was carrying something wrapped in brown parchment and tied with plain white string. Probably another one of his re-made muggle tools from his shed-made-workshop that he was going to gift to Mum. He paused at the sight of Bill and me. "Bill, why are you carrying your sister?"

Bill shrugged; jostling me in the process. "Well, Ginny and I managed to wake Holly up, but her legs are still asleep". We left Dad standing in the kitchen with an amused expression as Bill finished the trip into the family room. All our other siblings and Mum were already there with Mum stationed by the Christmas tree; ready to hand out presents. George and Fred and stake out prime real estate on the couch while everyone else was getting comfortable on the floor. Bill walked over to the couch before turning around so his back was facing Fred and George. "I think this belongs to you", Bill said to the both of them as he lets go of my legs and reaches up to pull my arms off of him. I fell onto the middle of the couch between my fellow triplets. I wiggled until I was in a position to stretch my legs over Georges's lap and lay my torso over Fred's lap so my head was resting on the armrest.

Both Fred and George shifted to accommodate their unexpected burden. George moved my legs into a position that was more comfortable for him. "Thanks, Bill", Fred said sarcastically as Bill turned back around and smiled down at us. "We were wondering where she was".

"But we couldn't remember where we had left her", George continued as Dad wandered in and sat in his armchair behind Ginny. "You know, Fred", George started to say as Bill walked away to join Charlie and Percy on the floor. "We really should be more responsible with our fellow triplet".

"Right you are, George", Fred said as he started twirling a green strand of hair around his finger. Mum started passing out presents. She hands the first one to Ginny, knowing that she was the one who was most likely to vibrate out of her skin if she had to wait any longer. "We are a set. If we lost her, we wouldn't be a complete one".

I grumbled incoherently at them. It was too early for this… well, it was past nine o'clock in the morning. But that was still too early for a holiday. Fred let go of my very green hair and wrapped an arm over my stomach; pulling me closer to him. I appreciated his body heat. "Merry Christmas, Holly", Fred relented as Mum gave Ginny the go-ahead to open her present.

The sounds of wrapping paper ripping filled the room as Ginny went at it. The rest of us had no problem waiting patiently. We all knew what it was, and it amused us greatly that Ginny still got excited every year. When all the wrapping paper was completely destroyed, Ginny held up an emerald green knitted jumper. "Oh, thank you, Mum! I love it", Ginny exclaimed; beaming up at a very pleased Mum.

Mum handed the next present to Ron. He opened it slightly neater and with a lot less enthusiasm than Ginny; revealing a red jumper to replace the one he had grown out of from last year. And around the room we went; going from the youngest to oldest. I was third. I got a knitted cap in silver and green. "To go with the Slytherin scarf I found in your trunk", Mum told me with a knowing look. I stared at her in shock. How fast did she knit this? Fred and George were gifted with mittens. Fred got red ones. George got blue ones. Mum had even knitted both of them an extra left mitten. "Since you both always lose the left one", Mum had said. Percy got a multi-colored scarf that didn't have a distinguishable pattern. Charlie and Bill both got jumpers. Charlie's jumper had a dragon on it, and Bill's had a giant W on it. We couldn't decide if it was for William or Weasley.

"Thanks, Mum", Bill said. "I'm really going to need this in Egypt". He was smiling to let Mum know that he was joking.

Mum flapped a hand at him as she handed Dad his gift. Dad got a new nightcap to keep the parts of his head that were missing hair warm. "And for you, my dear", Dad said as he stood up from his armchair; his new nightcap perched on top of his head. Dad held out the box he had been holding earlier. Mum accepts it with a coy little smile.

"Oh, Arthur", she blushed. "You didn't have to". Mum opened her present the neatest out of all of us. She pulls at the ends of the string to untie it and frees the box from the brown parchment without ripping it to pieces. The box was easy to open and in seconds Mum pulled out a… can opener. "Thank you", Mum said with a perplexed expression.

Dad didn't seem to see Mum's face. "I knew you would like it". Mum twirled the can opener around by its handle as we all watched. She studied it from all angles as Dad said, "I even charmed it so it will open things on it's on". Judging by the perplexed look on Mum's face I wasn't sure she was aware that the object in her hand could open things.

But, nevertheless, Mum fixed her face into an appreciative expression. "I'm sure it will be a big help", she assured Dad. Dad beamed as if she had just told him they were expecting another child.

* * *

I'm not sure how it happened. But one minute the eight of us Weasley siblings were sitting in a circle in the family room (Mum and Dad decided to take a moment for themselves) talking about the old days when only Bill and Charlie were school-aged and the rest of us were still running around, driving Mum nuts. Back then, during the winter holidays, time was spent on elaborate games of hide and seek, and forts that took up the whole family room. The next moment we were scrounging the house for blankets and pillows. The linen cupboard was raided when Mum and Dad were too distracted to notice. The floor was littered with the pillows and the cushions that we pulled from the couch and Dad's chair. A couple of them were enlarged by Bill and Charlie to guarantee that every inch of floor space in the fort would be cozy. Percy disappeared at some point when we were constructing the blanket walls and ceiling of the fort; claiming that he had outgrown these childish whimsies a long time ago. Honestly, we were all touched that he had stayed for as long as he had.

The ceiling was the most difficult part. Especially since it was a struggle to construct a fort that could fit all of us. Especially considering that two of us were fully grown. If Bill and Charlie weren't able to use their wands, I highly doubt we would ever have finished the fort. Though it is the most foundationally unsound fort we've ever built.

Ginny crawls in first; calling for Charlie to hurry up behind her. She's been enjoying having the attention of the two eldest of the last couple of days. I think she was getting quite tired of all of us other siblings. You know, the ones she goes to school with. Charlie follows with a chuckle; looking absolutely silly as he gets on his hands and knees in order to fit through the fort entrance. Fred, George, and I go next with Fred in the lead, me in the middle, and George taking up the rear. Once inside, we see that Ginny and Charlie have chosen to relax on the left side of the fort. Fred makes the executive decisions to claim the middle of the fort with me and George laying down on either side of him.

"When was the last time we did this?" I asked as Ron crawled in; followed by Bill.

Charlie hummed in thought as Ron laid down by the right wall of the fort and Bill took the sport between Ron and George. "I think you three were eight", He said after a moment. No one needed to ask who he was referring to when he said, 'you three'. "It was a rainy day. And You three were driving Mum mad".

"Yeah", Bill piped in for his side of the fort. "I remember that. Charlie and I made this fort to reduce the chances of Mum accidentally killing one of you and leaving us with twins instead of triplets".

"Aww", Fred cooed. "I feel so loved".

As we all laid on our backs and stared up at the patchworked ceiling, Bill decided to change the subject. "How's Slytherin, Gin?" He asked; figuring that since we had constructed a fort, we had also made a safe space. "You haven't really talked about it".

When she speaks, Ginny's voice takes on an air that has been missing since the start of the break. It's quieter and more poised. Like how she's been talking since she became close to the Carrow sisters. It was both impressive and jolting about how fast she could switch between being the Ginny raised by Gryffindors and Slytherin Ginny. "It's alright", she answered. "Better than I thought it would be". No one responds for a while. Giving Ginny time to collect her thought and feelings to tell us more. Even Ron bites his tongue, which is really saying something. "I was scared at first. But Adrian helped a lot".

Laying down, I couldn't see anyone's facial expressions. But I sure imagined them when Bill asked with a touch of disbelief, "Holly's Adrian?" If Bill was lying next to me, I'd jab him with my elbow. Other than our birthday party last year, Bill hasn't seen Adrian.

"Yeah", Ginny agreed. "He made sure no one bullied me and he introduced me to his cousins, Hestia and Flora. They're twins and we became friends. They like me because I can tell them apart". Yes, there is some benefit to being related to Fred and George. "Since I'm friends with them, anyone in Slytherin who would be mean to me just ignores me instead. And since I'm a Weasley anyone from the other houses who would pick on me for being a Slytherin, leave me alone".

"Sounds like we owe this Adrian a big thank you", Charlie said a bit begrudgingly. But I loved him for it because this felt like the first step in changing my boyfriend's perception with my family from 'Adrian Pucey; the bloke who's kissing my sister' to 'Adrian Pucey; an okay guy'.

Ron snorted. "Why?" He asked dryly. "We let him snog Holly. Watching over Ginny is the least he can do".

My eyebrows slanted inwards as I frowned. This brat. Fred and George started to snicker; not even bothering to try to hide it. "I", I start to say, speaking very slowly to make sure I got my point across. "Can snog whoever I want whenever I want. And no Weasley has any say in the matter". I declared. But after a few seconds, I felt the need to tack on, "except maybe Mum". Because Mum has the final say in… well, everything.

"Don't worry, Jolly Holly", Fred said in a tone of voice that was anything but reassuring. "We know that".

"That's why we gave you green hair", George said. "We thought if you looked like a swamp monster it would be harder for you and Adrian to get…" he paused himself. Probably aware to the eleven-year-old and the twelve-year-old that we were sharing this fort with. "too close".

I rolled my eyes. "Bill, kick George please", I requested. What happened to talking about Ginny and how she's doing? Why can't we go back to that?

"Sorry. No can do, Holly", Bill said. "I approve of their methods". Bloody hell. I think as I rolled my eyes.

Conversations in the fort drift from topic to topic. We spend a good five minutes listening to Ron just gush about how amazing quidditch is. Which, now that I think about it, is probably the safest topic he could talk about since he couldn't bring up what's currently going on at Hogwarts. Fred and George decided to fill everyone in on the Angelina competition. Both Charlie and Bill were very amused and Ron was very bored. "You know that when this Angelina girl learns that you are treating her like some sort of prize, she's going to castrate you two idiots", Bill said.

I could feel Fred shaking his head from his spot next to me. "No. Angelina wouldn't do that".

George agreed. "Of course she wouldn't. She likes us too…." But then his mind caught with his mouth and George made a complete one-hundred eighty turn. "We need to tell Lee that we can never Angelina about this year".

"What does castrate mean?" Ginny asked.

Before any of us older siblings could tell Ginny that it wasn't anything important, Ron, the brat, starts talking. "It's when a bloke gets-" Whatever he said after that was two muffled to understand.

"She doesn't need to know that, Ron", Bill said; leaving me to assume that Bill had covered Ron's mouth.

We moved on to listen to Charlie and Bill tell stories about their time at Hogwarts. Which was mostly Bill talking about all the girls he dated with Charlie correcting him when some of his claims got too unrealistic to be true. But they were interrupted when a voice breached the cloth walls of our fort and captured our attention. "Your father and I left you children alone for thirty-minutes and you make a mess of my family room", came the voice of Mum.

"We'll clean it up, Mum", Charlie called. "Promise".

"You better", Mum called back. She was trying to make her voice sound stern, but it was coming off as more entertained than anything else. "Holly, an owl just dropped off a parcel for you".

I scrunched my nose. A Parcel? Who would send me a parcel? I sat up so I could change directions and poke my head out of the fort. Which was a risky move because it meant that Fred had access to my bare feet. He better not dye them green. Mum stands in front of our fort. She has one hand braced against her hip while the other one holds out a long and thin navy-blue box tied shut with a silver ribbon. I eyed the box in her hand before trying to make sense of her facial expression. She's smiling but it's with a bit of anticipation that I don't quite understand. "I swear, I didn't order anything", I said.

Mum leaned over just as far as it took to hand me the box. "I think it's a gift", she said as Fred and George's heads popped out of the fort. "Probably from someone special". Mum continued teasingly. I blushed.

But that didn't stop me from pulling at the ends of the ribbon to untie it. Carefully, I pulled the box top off. Aware that Mum and my fellow triplets were just as curious as I was, I studied the insides of the box carefully. The box was lined with black velvet. There were a little card and pendant on a silver chain. The pendant was decorated with little crystals drawing out Leo. I knew exactly who this was from. However, even knowing that, I used my free hand to pick up the little card.

"Why did someone send you a necklace with random crystal dots?" Fred asked.

"It's a constellation", I answered; a little distracted as I read the card. There were only four words on it. It was short and sweet and fitted his personality completely. It read, 'Merry Christmas, From Adrian'. I set the card back down in the box and ran a finger over the little crystals; trying to remember which one was representing Adrian's star. It was beautiful and the first piece of jewelry I've ever own in this life. My first thought was about how sweet it was of Adrian to send me a very personal Christmas gift that was based off on one of our previous conversations. My second thought was how I wanted to put on this necklace right now and never take it off again. My third thought was very different from the previous two. "This is awful!" I exclaimed.

Fred and George snorted. "Well, Jolly Holly. Mr. Pucey tried his best and he had a good run", Fred said as Mum scowled at me. My sudden declaration had been rude and I was probably facing a lecture on greed if I didn't explain myself soon. "But if the bloke can't buy you good Christmas presents you should cut him loose before he gets any deeper", Fred continued. My mind was whirling. What could I do? I hadn't even thought about exchanging presents with Adrian. Merlin, I was a terrible girlfriend.

"Have you thought about dating Lee, by any chance?" George asked from the other side of Fred.

Mum shot Fred and George a warning look as I chose to ignore the commentary from the Weasley peanut gallery. "Holly", Mum started; her voice low and scolding. "It's a lovely gift. You should be happy he thought of you at all".

"I am", I assured her as I looked away from the necklace to make eye contact with her. "That's not the problem".

Mum had both of her hands on her hips this time. "Then what is?" She asked.

"I didn't get him anything". Mum must have heard the rising panic in my voice because her eyes widen as she realized where I was coming from. This was my first boyfriend… well, in this life. And he had just sent me a thoughtful gift and I hadn't done the same. What's worse, he had sent me a gift that had to have cost money and the most I've ever been able to give him was homemade coupons.

"There's still time". Mum assured me. "You can give him a present at his parents' New Years' party and tell him that you wanted to give it to him in person". I nodded slowly. That was… that was a good idea. But what could I give him? The only thing I had an abundance of was siblings and they were sadly nontransferable. Luckily, Mum had a solution for that too. "We can bake him something. Do you know what his favorite dessert is?"

I racked my brains for anything. But the only sweet thing I could remember Adrian eating was a pumpkin pastie. Horrified, I shook my head.

Mum was unphased. "Best go with a chocolate cream pie. Everyone loves your chocolate cream pie". And Mum saves the day.


	63. Culture Shock

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Culture Shock

"Mum", I hollered down the stairs as I tried, in vain, to tie the green velvet ribbon in place that was keeping my bun from falling apart. I don't think I've ever worn my hair up in a bun in this life. Jessie wasn't very fond of this hairstyle either. Which, fully explained why I was struggling. "Why can't I just leave it down", I mumbled to my reflection in the bathroom mirror as my fingers continued to get tangled up in the ribbon and my hair. But I knew the reason. Even if it was one reason that I found completely stupid. Apparently, it would look sloppy to go to a suit and tie type party with loose hair. I thought I could get away with just a simple ponytail, but Mum insisted that I go the extra mile.

"It's bad enough your hair… is multicolored. Perhaps a bun could hide some of the colors", Mum had pointed out. Immediately making me self-conscious of the rather shocking fashion statement that my loving fellow triplets had forced upon me. The hair dye that they have laced into my shampoo on Christmas Eve hadn't faded completely. But it was no longer fully green either. Instead, my hair had become streaked over the last few days; consisting of red and green hairs. Sort of giving me the appearance of a punk rocker teen who had tried and failed to dye their own hair for the first time. I swear to Merlin. Fred and George were going to suffer because of this.

"Holly", Mum announced her presence as she appeared in the doorframe of the bathroom. I had left the door open, not seeing the point of closing it when I was just doing my hair. "There's no need to yell inside the house like that", she said; slightly scolding.

I ignored her parental rebuke; turning away from the mirror I tried to give her the most pitiful look I could muster. "I can't get this to look right, or stay in place", I whined.

Mum sighed but was smiling softly as she squeezed into the bathroom to stand behind me. She reaches up and brushes my hands out of her way; taking over control of my wayward hair and the hair ribbon that we had actually repurposed. The ribbon had originally been tied around a bottle of firewhiskey one of Dad's work colleagues had gifted him for the holidays. Mum and I are the same height, so it is a little awkward for her to do my hair, but you wouldn't know it based on how fast she pulled my hair into compliance and tied the ribbon in place.

I exhaled loudly through my nose as I smoothed down the skirt of the dress I was wearing for tonight's festivities. It was the fanciest thing I owned. And while I was used to wearing skirts as a part of my school uniform, the skirt of the dress was a bit longer; hovering just above my calves. Here's hoping that my legs don't get tangled up in all the access fabric and I end up making a fool of myself. The dress was mostly black with a dark hunter green floral design to decorate the skirt. Mum had worked hard to make this dress for me since the start of the holiday break. The black fabric had come from one of Dad's nicer robes that had mysterious ended up being deemed unusable when Mum announced she needed to find fabric to make me a party dress. The green floral used to be a Christmas table cloth that was supposed to be taken out when company came to visit. But we never use table clothes whether we have company or not, so Mum decided that it would be better used as dress material. I thought it looked nice. If I looked at this dress through Jessie's eyes, I would say it looked like a homecoming dress a sophomore would pick out from a big name department store. Which is appropriate considering my current age. But still, despite knowing better, I worried that it wouldn't be enough for Adrian's party. What if I didn't fit in? What if Adrian became embarrassed? I stared hard at my reflection as these questions swan around in my head. The green streaks in my hair definitely weren't helping.

Mum lowered her hands from my hair and placed one hand on each of my shoulders. She gently squeezed. "You look lovely", she said in an attempt to ease my nerves.

Around my neck hanged the gift Adrian had given me for Christmas. Despite only owning it for a few days, it had already become an item of sentimental comfort. Raising a hand, my fingers found the pendent and started tracing the little crystals embedded in it that outlined the Leo constellation. "I don't know why I'm nervous", I admitted to my mum. It was one of those things that only mothers and daughters could share. "It's not like I've never been to a party before". Mum squeezed my shoulders again but didn't offer up any words of wisdom. Instead, she reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a sprig of… "Holly?" I asked

Mum nodded without any explanation. "Hand me a bobby pin", she ordered. It only took me a brief moment to comprehend her request before I handed her one from the bathroom counter. She worked with nimble fingers, the kind someone only gets after many long afternoons of knitting as she decorated the ribbon I was wearing in my hair with the holly. When she was done, Mum leaned forward so we could see both our faces in the mirror. We had the same nose and cheekbones. But my forehead, one hundred percent, came from Dad. "If your young man didn't like you, he wouldn't have invited you or given you that necklace". I sighed deeply. That was all correct.

"Holly", Dad called up the stairs, in a similar manner that I had done moments before. "Adrian's here to pick you up'.

Mum patted my shoulders. "Let's go", she encouraged. "If we leave Adrian at the mercy of your brothers for too long, he may not survive to see tomorrow".

* * *

I heard Adrian before I saw him. "And how will you be celebrating the new year, sir?" Adrian asked politely. Mum walked down the stairs in front of me. As I followed behind her, the first part of Adrian I could see was the top of his head. His hair was short and clean-cut as ever, and unlike me, his hair was one solid color.

"Well," Dad could be heard as he answered slowly in his slightly clumsy and thought-collecting way. "We won't be doing much. Probably play a few rounds of exploding snap; enjoying each other's company". A couple more steps down the stairs and I could make out Adrian's neck and shoulders from around Mum.

"I think Charlie and I are going to brush up on our dueling", Bill broke in and not in his usual easy-going manner. His tone had me flinching, as Mum gave me a brief look over her shoulder as she took the last couple of steps on the staircase. It was a look that screamed, 'called it'.

"It has been a while since we've practiced dueling", said Charlie. "And you never know when a well-trained stunning spell will be needed".

I picked up my feet to get down the stairs faster. Though Mum beat me in intervening. "That's enough, you two", she scolded as she made out presence known. She moved out of the way of the stairs as I followed her; allowing me to see the whole room. Dad was sitting at his usual seat at the kitchen table, but he stood up when we entered the room. Charlie was standing by the door that led to the garden; leaning against the wall with his arms cross. His posture was making all the muscles he had gained from wrangling dragons stand out in a way I think he meant to be intimidating. I rolled my eyes and soon found where Bill was in the room. He was seated in Percy's usual spot. He was staring at Adrian's back with an expression that was too blank for me to get a proper read of. While Adrian was facing Mum and me.

"You're early", I told Adrian as I studied his all-black dress robes accessorized with a slim necktie. He was holding himself with a stiff back that spoke of unease. Bill's fault, I think.

"You look-" Adrian started to say in a way that made me think of Jessie's senior prom night. I felt his eyes roaming over me. Starting at my black flats and wondering up my homemade dress. He didn't cut himself off until he reached my head. Or rather, my hair. "…. Very festive".

I offered him a small smile. "Fred and George", I supplied as I took a step closer to him. "They haven't told me how to get the dye out yet".

Understanding filled his grey pupils. "Aw", he said; reaching out to hold my left hand. I allow it. The contact making me half-way forget that I had family members watching this whole exchange.

"Oh, Holly", Mum broke in as she bustled past us. "Don't forget", she called over her shoulder as she hurried over to the kitchen counter where an afternoon of hard work sat in a nicely wrapped box.

It only took a few seconds of us standing in slightly awkward silence as Dad, Bill, and Charlie stared at Adrian and me before Mum returned with the wrapped box in her hands. I pulled my left hand out of Adrian's to so I could take the box from her with both my hands.

I smiled at the box in my hands; remembering how I had kicked everyone but Mum out of the kitchen so I could focus solely on the creation of this chocolate cream pie. Holding out both of my arms, I offered the box to Adrian.

"What's this?" He asked before he accepted it; very much aware of the scrutiny of our audience.

"Your Christmas present", I said; letting my arms fall to my sides once the box left my possession. "Sorry you didn't have it on Christmas morning. I wanted to give it to you in person". It was a bit of a white lie. I was glad I could see his face when he received it, but I wasn't telling him about the part where I hadn't thought about exchanging gifts until Christmas day.

Adrian's face softened. A sharp contrast to his uncomfortable posture. "Thank you", he spoke genuinely as he shifted the box so he could hold it in one hand. "Do you mind if I wait to open it?"

I shook my head. Understanding the urge to get out of here and away from my older brothers. Specifically, the older brothers that were of age and could use magic outside of school. This time it was me who reached out to join our hands. "Should we go?" Adrian nodded and stepped towards our kitchen fireplace; pulling me after him. "Bye", I called over my shoulder; directing my words more at Mum and Dad than at Bill and Charlie. "I'll see you tomorrow morning".

Which was apparently the wrong thing to say. "You'll be home by eleven o'clock, young lady", Mum interjected.

I halted; forcing Adrian to as well. I turned around and shot Mum a surprised look. Out of all my family members, she had been the one to seem the most unphased by my relationship with the Pucey heir. "It's News Year's Eve", I argued. "The point of a News Year's Eve party is to celebrate until the new year".

Mum stood firm, causing Bill and Charlie to grin obnoxiously with happiness at her parental decision. "Yes", Mum said in response to my argument. "That is why I'm allowing you to stay out until eleven instead of ten. You're fourteen. You have no business staying out all night".

But one of the best parts of News Year's Eve was snogging at the stroke of midnight. I thought, knowing that to be a sound counterargument. But I knew better than to say it. Not in a room with brothers who did not like to think about their sister kissing. "If I may", Adrian broke in.

"You may not", Bill muttered from the table.

Adrian spoke as if he hadn't heard the Weasley heir. "The party generally goes until two o'clock in the morning. And my mother has fireworks planned for midnight. It would be a shame for Holly to miss it".

Mum pursed her lips. It was usually a foreboding warning of an impending consequence. But this time, I read it as a waver in my favor. "You are to return home right after the fireworks".

I rolled my eyes. If things go my way, Adrian and I will be too distracted to watch the fireworks, let alone note when they are over. "A half-hour past one", I countered.

Mum frowned. "Holly", she warned. But she didn't get to finish.

"One o'clock", Dad spoke up. Mum flashed him a look and they had a silent conversation that only parents can. Whatever they were discussing, it ended when Dad gave Mum a deep nod. He repeated his instruction. "One o'clock and not a minute after. I will be staying up to make sure you are home on time".

The pleased grins slipped off Bill's and Charlie's faces while a big one grows on mine. "Thank you, Dad", I said before turning around and gesturing for Adrian to step into the fireplace.

He does so, but not without letting go of my hand to grab some floo powder. In the fireplace, we face four members of my family. Bill and Charlie are back to looking displeased while Mum and Dad seemed content. With his Christmas gift safely secured under one of his arms and me attaching myself to his side, Adrian held up his fistful of floo powder. "Carrow Maison", Adrian enunciated loudly and clearly before he dropped the powder. In an instant, green light engulfed us and I was only able to briefly catch the terrified faces of my eldest brothers before Adrian and I were swept up the chimney. I guess I forgot to mention that Adrian has close ties to the Carrow family. Oops.

* * *

The place Adrian had flooed us to reminded me of a mixture of Ancient Rome and Gringotts. The floors were marble. The ceilings were marble. And the pillars were marble. Sound must just bounce off all of these surfaces in a near-endless echo; making it impossible to ever pass by silently. "It thought your parents were hosting this party", I said as I paused in front of a painting of an aqueduct that was bigger than me. "Is this your uncle's house?"

"We are not at my uncle's home". Adrian answered as he came to stand next to me after freeing his robes of any residue soot. He shifted the wrapped box from one hand to the other as we both studied the painting. It was an impervious piece of art just based on its size alone. Though, I was unsure of what motivation would make someone want to paint an aqueduct. "This place belongs to my mother. It was a part of her dowry".

Adrian turned and started heading in the direction of open double-doors that had classical music wafting through them. I hurried a couple of steps to keep up with him. "So, if your mother owns this place, why do you live in the house in the country?"

Adrian shrugged. "We prefer it. This place is too big just for the three of us. We like running across each other in the sitting room or the hallway. Father's workshop is sent up in our… how did you put it? Country house. Besides, the cost of the upkeep of Carrow Maison wouldn't be worth the luxury of living here".

Then why don't you sell it? I wanted to ask, but feel that it wasn't any of my business. So, instead, I said nothing as Adrian and I stopped at the open doors that lead to an opulent ballroom filled with witches and wizards of various ages dancing and socializing. Buffet and drink tables lined the walls. All of them were covered in pristine white table cloths. There was enough food that could feed my family for weeks consisting of; easy-to-eat fruits, hors d'oeuvres that was clearly not English. They could have been French, Russian, Greek, or maybe a mixture of many different cultures. Either way, I didn't know their names and I doubted I could pronounce them even if I did. One of the drink tables was even displaying a pyramid of shimmering crystal champagne glasses that was probably being saved for the count down to midnight. The witches and wizards present were all dressed in their finest. Witches wore updo hairstyles with feathers weaved in for decorations. Most wore robes, some wore dresses, but all of them were made of rich fabrics that I had only ever seen from store windows. The wizards looked more identical. Similar to Adrian, their robes were black; helping the witches' fashion stand out even more. This was different than any New Years' party I've been to in the past. I eyed all of this with advancing stages of dread as I forced myself to swallow the lump that had developed in my throat. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Adrian seemed unaware of my sudden discomfort as he finished his explanation about Carrow Maison. "We only use Mother's house when we host parties or family gatherings. And I think Mother has promised Carrow Maison to Hestia for her dowry. Since we have no need of it and Flora is Uncle's heiress". And Adrian's family just got more interesting. Causing me to wonder who exactly was Hestia's and Flora's father. It wasn't the Carrow who taught defense in the deathly hollows, was it? I mean he had a sister that wasn't Mrs. Pucey. And Adrian had never mentioned having an aunt. So, Hestia's and Flora's father had to be someone else, right?

Before Adrian could suggest that we join the party, and before I could suggest that we ditch this event and explore his mum's house to find a less intimidating room, His mum found us. "Oh good", she announced her presence with a swish of champagne-colored satin skirts. Very much aware of what I was wearing, I ran a hand over the skirt of my dress. You know, the dress that was made out of an old table cloth and one of my dad's robes. "You made it back", Mrs. Pucey said to her son, before turning to me. "Hello, Holly". I felt her eyes roam over me. "Interesting hairstyle".

We made eye contact. Which was a challenge, because I finding the giant opal hanging around her neck to be distracting. "H-hi", I stuttered out and immediately grimaced. Partly because I stuttered like a buffoon, but also because that might have been too informal a greeting for a party this lavish. "Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Pucey". I tacked on quickly in an attempt to save myself.

Mrs. Pucey smiled at me. It wasn't particularly warm, but I did find it reassuring. "Florentina, Please Holly. You should call me by my given name tonight. Marcellus too. It's important that everyone here sees the close ties our family has formed with you".

I blinked up at the woman like she had stunned me. And it wasn't because of the opal. Why was it important for their guests to perceiving how close I was to the Puceys? "Mother", Adrian spoke in a voice that I know all too well. It was his warning voice. The voice that let you know when you were about to cross a line that he didn't adhere to.

But Mrs. Pucey talked over Adrian like he hadn't said anything. "Now", she spoke briskly. "The majority of our guests are trusted friends to our family, other family members, and Marcellus' clients. Most of them will not care who we deem acceptable for our son". Acceptable? I shot Adrian a panicked look.

Which he accepted with a pained sigh. "Mother", he tried again.

However, it didn't even give Mrs. Pucey pause. "It's only a small handful you need to be wary of. I trust you will have no issues discerning who they are". Um…. "You are not yet out in society so you don't have to worry about following social etiquette too closely". Out in society? I hadn't heard that phrase since the last time Jessie read a Jane Austen novel. "But it would be wise to stay within public view at all times. If you must visit the ladies' room, take someone with you. Myself, for example. Or you might ask one of Adrian's cousins". So, Flora and Hestia were here….. "Part from that, Adrian should be by your side for the entire party". Mrs. Pucey stopped there the give her son a hard look.

Adrian rolled his eyes. "I'm the one who invited her, mother. I'm not about to leave her to get feed to wolves". Well, that was something, at least.

"And whatever you do", Mrs. Pucey continued. "Try to stay clear of Cousin Alecto and Cousin Amycus".

Adrian paled considerably, causing the little hairs on my arms to stand on end. Those were the names of the death eaters that tortured Neville in his seventh year, wasn't it? I wasn't completely sure, but the heavy feeling in my gut was telling me I was right. "They actually came?" Adrian asked. At his mother's confirming nod, he voiced more questions. "Why now? They've never accepted the invitation before. Why is this year different?" He sounded frustrated. But I think that emotion is masking something else. I reached out and grabbed his hand; the one that wasn't holding my Christmas gift to him. It didn't take much encouragement for him to grip my hand. In fact, held it so tightly that circulation was cut off.

"No one can say for sure what made them decide to attend this year", Mrs. Pucey said quietly. "My guess is that they may be running low on funds. If that's true, their best chance at talking to my brother when he is being amicable will be tonight". Mrs. Pucey finished her explanation. Her eyes flashed downwards until they landed on the box Adrian was holding. "What do you have there?"

Shifting at the sudden topic change, Adrian held out the wrapped box for his mother to see. "A late Christmas gift from Holly", he answered. If there was a tense edge to his voice, his mother ignored it.

"Oh, how lovely", his mother proclaimed. "But you shouldn't bring it into the ballroom". She snapped the fingers on her right hand. A loud unexpected crack sounded from my right; causing me to jump out of my skin as a house-elf wearing a cut-up bedsheet as a toga appeared at my side.

"Merlin", I swore as place my free hand over my heart. As if that would help me calm down.

"Topaz", Mrs. Pucey said as she took the box from Adrian without him offering it. "Hold on to Holly's thoughtful gift for us until we leave tomorrow morning", she instructed as she handed the box over to the house-elf. The House-elf gave a solemn nod before poofing out of existence again. Mrs. Pucey turned her eyes back to us. "Oh, don't look so serious you two. This is a party. Have fun". And with that, she turned on her heels with another elegant swish of her skirts. As I watched her go, I peered into the ballroom again. This time, instead of seeing an overly expensive party, I saw a battlefield. Maybe an eleven o'clock curfew wouldn't have been such a bad thing.

* * *

"Here", Adrian said as he handed me a crystal glass of punch. "Drink this, and calm down. It's not as bad as Mother made it sound like". He said quietly in my ear. We were standing by one of the refreshment tables as couples twirled around one another on the dance floor. I took my first sip. It was fruity and sweet; just as one would expect punch to be. But I knew there was one ingredient that would improve it. "This is just any old party, and you'll be fine", he promised.

I took a second sip, and that was all the permission I needed to allow every thought I had had in the last couple of minutes to come gushing out. "Why is it important that I call your parents by their first names? Why would your parents' guest care if your mum and dad found me acceptable? What does acceptable even mean?" Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled loudly through his nostrils. "And what was all that about being out in society? I thought that was some archaic thing for the muggle Victorian era". Not that I actually know enough about history to know what happened during the Victorian era. I've never been much of a history buff.

Adrian fixed me with an unyielding gaze. "Take another sip", he ordered. Sighing, I did as he asked. And when I had lowered the glass again for the third time, he asked, "better?"

"It would be better if it was spiked", I answered dryly.

The look Adrian gave me in response was very unimpressed. "You'll be fine", Adrian repeated. "This is just like socializing with Slytherins at school. Except with older Slytherins and nicer clothes".

Right. Sure. I'll just keep telling myself that. I thought I as took a longer sip of punch. Maybe I can pretend there's rum in here. That might help my nerves. "What's this?" A new voice said as someone came to stand next to Adrian and me. "Is Weasley experiencing culture shock?"

I scowled into my glass of punch as Adrian greeted, "Flint".

"Pucey", Flint returned in kind. He was wearing black robes almost identical to Adrian's. Except for his had lines of silver decorating the hems of his sleeves and collar. "Wonderful party. Your mother has outdone herself again".

"Yes", Adrian agreed. "Father had clients visiting from out of the country, so she felt it was necessary to go above and beyond". Something caught Adrian's attention over my shoulder. "Speaking of which…" He trailed off. Causing both Flint and I to look over our shoulders where Adrian's father stood surrounded by a small group of Japanese men; gesturing for his son to join him. "Looks like it's time to sell the appeal of a family business to potential clients. Excuse me", Adrian to Flint before turning to me. "I won't be long", he promised. And then he turned back to Flint. "Stay with her, would you?" Except he didn't wait for an answer; separating from Flint and me like his mother hadn't warned us that there were people here that wouldn't be pleased with my attendance.

I watched Adrian go with a grimace. Who was the person who said he wasn't going to leave me to be fed to the wolves? A short laugh had me looking back to face Flint. "He is overestimating your ability to maneuver complex social ladders". He was smiling; giving me a very clear view of his yellowed, crooked teeth. This horse-faced git. Why in the world would Adrian feel comfortable leaving me alone with the likes of him? "Don't worry. I'll speak to him".

I pressed my lips into a thin line and lowered my eyelids slightly to appear annoyed. "And you know my capabilities better than Adrian?" I asked sarcastically.

Flint accepted my comment good-naturedly, which made me suspicious. "I like to think I am more socially observant than Pucey". Before I could refute that claim; even though I had no evidence to support it, Flint ordered. "Look around, Weasley. And tell me what you see?"

I rolled my eyes but decided to comply anyway. It sounds like I'm stuck with Flint until Adrian can escape his father. So, I might as well not make an enemy. My eyes dart around the ballroom. Noting the same things I had seen during my first glimpse of the party. After I moment, I said, "I see a bunch of rich people with their noses up in the air and their hands-"

Flint cut me off from finishing an undoubtedly rude comment. "What I see is a bunch of power-hungry low-leveled pureblood wives and their anxious daughters trying to subtly kill you with their eyes when your back is turned". What? The annoyed look slipped off my face at his words. There was much to unpack in that statement. Why would wives and daughters want me dead? What exactly made them low-leveled? I mean, I know that the sacred twenty-eight are kind of like the aristocracy of the wizarding world. But other than that, I thought, with exception to blood traitors, all pure-bloods considered themselves to be equal. And what did Flint get out of telling me all this? Flint's smile widened. "Many are also studying your hair as if they find it personally offensive". He continued. "I am curious. Did you dye your hair just for Pucey's party? It is a bold choice".

My mind was still whirling from all the new information, so I didn't have a retort for him. Although, he definitely deserved one. At what was probably a terrified expression that also spoke of how my mind had been forced into overdrive, Flint's smile widened. Bloody hell. He won this round and he knew it. "Shall we have a dance?" He asked.

"No", I automatically answered. At least I still have enough of my wits to achieve that much.

But Flint plucked the punch glass from me as if I hadn't said anything. He placed it down on the table we were standing next to before pressing a hand against the small of my back. "Best to keep moving, anyway", He said as he steered us towards the dance floor. I wanted to dig my heels in. But now that Flint had mentioned it, I was feeling like a hundred pairs of eyes was boring into me, like a hundred needles piercing skin. So, I allowed Flint to manipulate me as he wanted me. "Now that your guard dog decided it is safe to leave you own if we dance perhaps, we will dissuade anyone from trying to approach you", Flint explained. My eye twitched when he described Adrian as a guard dog.

With practiced ease that spoke of many classy parties before this one, Flint kept one hand on my back. But he pulled me in closer as he grabbed my other hand in his. And then we were off; Flint leading us around other dance partners in time with the music. When I missed a couple of steps and trodded on his toes, he had the grace not to say anything. "Don't look at your feet", He said quietly enough that only I would be able to hear. "Just give up control and let me lead".

I felt a flash of pride return to me. As if I would ever do that. "Are you going to tell me what you meant about wives and daughters wanting me dead?" I asked as I, very stubbornly, continued to stare at my feet.

Flint took a step forward, forcing me to take a step back as we complete a very tense box step. I could hear the amusement in Flint's voice when he said, "you really have no idea what dating Adrian Pucey entails".

I rolled my eyes; expressing annoyance when I was really trying to figure out what Flint was getting at. The most troubling thing about being in a relationship with Adrian was the fact that he was the reincarnated soul of Regulus Black. Without that, Adrian Pucey was just a regular boy who came for a family of some means. But I highly doubt that Flint knows that. "I like him. He likes me. We don't need to be concerned with anything else".

"Oooh", Flint cooed mockingly at me as he let go of my lower back and raised our joined hands so I could spin under them. But when we were back to a traditional dancing position, with his hand on my back, Flint said, "Come now, Weasley. You're not that simple". I raised my eyes from my feet to fix Flint with an irate look. He wasn't going to goad me into playing along with a remark like that. And when it became clear to him that I wouldn't rise to his challenge, Flint continued. "Pucey is the heir to a profitable business. That is desirable, but not what makes him remarkable. What is remarkable is his mother; Florentina Pucey nee Carrow". Flint spoke Mrs. Pucey's name as if it was supposed to impress me. "The eldest child and only daughter of the late Lord Carrow. You know, I was told it was quite the scandal when she chose to marry a tradesman. It's one thing for a lady to marry up, but to marry down is always the subject of gossip. Especially when her family chose to support her in her decision to marry into the Pucey line".

Good Merlin, I thought as one song ended and a new one started. This was one bundle of information that kind of pissing me off. Flint kept dancing as if he hadn't even noticed the change in music. Though, he did adjust his tempo. "What does this have to do with anything?" I asked.

Flint rolled his eyes. As if to suggest I was being impossibly slow. "It means that Pucey has strong and very close ties to one of the most post powerful families of the Wizarding UK. The Carrows support the Puceys as their most generous benefactor. And if anything unfortunate were to happen to the current Lord Carrow's daughters, then Pucey would undoubtedly be named his heir".

I narrowed my eyes. Not liking what Flint was hinting at. "But nothing is going to happen to Flora or Hestia", I said forcefully.

Flint's yellow teeth made another appearance as he grinned. "But that doesn't stop desperate mothers wanting a good life for their daughters from imagining what would happen if anything unfortunate was to occur". I bit my lip to keep myself from voicing my opinions on that fact. But that didn't stop me from thinking about it. What greedy bloody monsters. Sure, Hestia and Flora were elitist and annoying. But there were just children. Like he enjoyed watching me become angry, Flint had more to say. "The best part of all this is the wall you constructed in all of their plans to block them".

"What wall?" I asked; just wanting this conversation and this dance to be over.

"You truly don't care how much influence Pucey has or how deep his bank vault is. You lead that boy around instead of chasing after him like their daughters can only hope to do". I scoffed. I don't lead Adrian around. Just as he doesn't lead me around. We'd have to have a direction in mind if that were possible. "It creates a trait that is very attractive to Pucey. One that makes it unlikely that he will ever pay a second glance at what they have to offer him", Flint finished.

"And what would that be?" I asked.

The music stopped, and Flint allowed us to stand still. He looked me squarely in the eye. "An equal".


	64. The Two Riddles

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Two Riddles

I was thoroughly confused by Flint. Jessie's knowledge of Flint included; poor sportsmanship, dressing up as a dementor during Harry's third year, yellow teeth, and only being liked by the members of Slytherin house. I knew all of that to be true. Except for the dementor part; since that hasn't happened yet. But despite knowing all that to be true, the side Flint was showing me when we conversed was… (and it made me uncomfortable to admit it) different. He liked to phrase his words in ways that got under my skin. That much was clear. But the content of his words seemed to be…. Well-intentioned. I thought back to the time I walked with him and the Slytherin team to the hospital wing. Back then, his questions and statements had been more investigative. I thought he was being nosy for the sake of entertainment. But what if… just maybe, Flint was looking out for Adrian? If there was some truth in that, it definitely added depth to his character. A lot more than 'looks like a troll' and 'is a monster on the quidditch pitch'. And then there was everything that was said at the Puceys' New Years' Eve party. He had made his usual, slightly insulting comments. But he had also ensured that no one else could approach me to do more than make vague insults. Flint had also given me a distressing amount of information that Adrian had admitted some truth in later in the night. But I couldn't help but wonder if it was all true.

Curiouser and curiouser. Telling me all that didn't benefit him or Adrian as far as I could tell. It did, however; make me informed of any potential dangers when and if I participated in another one of the Puceys' social events. But why? Why would Flint want to help me? And that last comment about equals- I shook my head, being unable to come up with potential explanations. What was that about?

"Welcome back," Flitwick said as he stood behind the podium in his classroom and smiled brightly to all the first-years present. "I hope everyone had a wonderful break and is looking forward to the new term. I have many new charms for us to tackle this semester". Flitwick reported with the eagerness of a scholar.

I was standing in the back of the room; my back leaning against the wall. One of my arms hung loosely at my side with another was bent at the elbow so I could absentmindedly twirl a strand of my now completely red hair. I should be paying more attention to what Flitwick is saying. After all, whatever charm Flitwick decided to assign them first, I would have to help supervise and instruct. But my thoughts, as they have been ever since New Years', resembled a runaway train. I couldn't slow it down. I couldn't change its course. And I couldn't put a stop to it. It was a train that was filled with the Carrows, Adrian, Flint's surprising behavior, the triad that is daughters and mothers and society, and philosophical thoughts about what exactly makes someone an equal.

I have been unable to disembark from the metaphorical train for days. Nothing had offered enough distraction. Not midnight fireworks, or Bill and Charlie leaving, or filling Fred and George's trunks with marmalade, or having Lockhart/Riddle staring at me through the entire welcome back feast, or getting detention in Snape's class for daydreaming. There was just too much that I was unsure of and it was driving me batty.

"Now", Flitwick said as he raised both of his hands. "We will split into our usual practice groups and take turns practicing the proper wand movements". Bollocks. I hadn't heard what spell we were working on today. "And Miss Weasley and I will go around in case anyone has any questions". My eyes scanned the room until they landed on Luna. I should be able to get the assignment from her without being called out on the fact that I hadn't been paying attention.

* * *

Fred and George found me at lunch; Lee close to their heels. Fred slides into the spot next to me at Gryffindor table as George and Lee sit across from us. "You missed a good defense class", Lee announced as he started to fill his plate with a generous helping of chips and a turkey sandwich.

I was pulled out of my thoughts about Flint secretly being an okay bloke by that statement. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "A good defense class? Did you have a substitute?" I stuffed a chip into my mouth. I knew that a substitute wasn't likely. Lockhart/Riddle had already taken his seat at the teacher's table. Though there was a dark and terrible scowl on his blemish-free face.

"No", George said; happy to share.

"Better", Fred ensured me. "Dumbledore sat in the back of the classroom for the entire lesson".

I coughed. Suddenly finding it difficult to swallow my mouthful of potato. "What?" I asked; moisture collecting in the corners of my eyes. It couldn't decide if this was good news or something else entirely. On that day when we tried to confess to Dumbledore, he had told us that he would do something about the teaching methods of Lockhart. But with the headmaster's inaction at the other information we had shared with him, I hadn't believed that Dumbledore was going to do anything about his defense professor.

George nodded; enthused as he accepted the picture of water passed to him by Lee. "Lockhart was caught off-guard. Dumbledore stared at him the whole class and was even taking notes".

The mental image of Dumbledore with his long white beard and wrinkles sitting in a classroom with parchment and a quill had me slack-jawed. Lee snorted into his food. "He was sitting next to one of our roommates", Lee added. It was left unsaid that it was one of the roommates that none of us ever bothered to get to know. "At one point, Dumbledore asked him if he understood the lesson and if he wanted a copy of his notes".

"It was brilliant", Fred continued around a mouthful. "Lockhart couldn't do any of his demonstrations". Fred spoke the word as if it was something that one would only see in a police report. "Dumbledore even asked if one of his infamous demonstrations was on today's agenda".

All three boys laughed at the memory. "You should have seen Lockhart's face", Lee said.

"He looked like he had swallowed a lemon whole", George described.

I shook my head; hoping that another car wouldn't be added to my distracting thought train. "Why was Dumbledore sitting through defense?" I asked. Because while their recall of events was interesting and painted amusing mental images, it didn't really tell me anything important. Was this…. intervention going to make our Lockhart/Riddle problem better or worse?

Fred and George shrugged. But Lee answered without pause. "There's a rumor that Lockhart is on probation".

I leaned back in surprise. "Probation?" I asked for confirmation. Can teachers even be put on probation? As far as I know, it's never happened before.

"Yeah", Lee said as he furiously nodded. "Because of all those complaints against him last term. I think Dumbledore got a lot more of them after everyone went home for the break and complained to their parents".

And that… made sense. I don't think anyone would be thrilled with a report that their child was being used as a spell dummy by their defense professor. Even if he was a celebrity. I mulled over the different possible outcomes of Lockhart being on probation in my head. I started munching on my chips again without really intending to eat them. It was a good thing for Hogwarts, I decided. If Lockhart's probation leads to him being sacked, then the student population would be spared any further abuse. But if Lockhart was kicked out of Hogwarts before Fred, George, and I could get the diary back, we would lose a Horcrux and Lockhart would still be possessed. Or, at least until Riddle sucked out all of Lockhart's life force and gained a physical form. Nervously, I turned my head in the direction of the teachers' table. Lockhart's plate was awkwardly empty. But he was taking long gulps from his goblet as he stared in the direction of my brothers, Lee, and I. Shadows guarded his gaze. A pin-prick shiver ran over my entire body as I turned forward. My left hand flew up to grasp the necklace I had taken to wearing every day. We needed to do something. But I didn't have the foggiest idea of what that should be.

* * *

After dinner found myself sitting in my usual spot in Snape's potions lab. Dirty cauldrons were stacked on the tabletop and on the floor around me. There had to be at least twenty-five of them. I had a wooden scrub brush in one hand while the other was propped up under my chin. When Snape had told me what my task was for the night, I had taken off my robe and rolled up my sleeves to make sure they didn't get in the way when I was elbow deep in cauldron scum. But one cauldron in and I found myself… distracted. Equals. What did Flint mean by that? And why was it something only I could offer Adrian and not those daughters and their match-making mothers?

"Miss Weasley", Snape's irritated tones reached my ears and pulled me out of my thoughts. He was sitting behind his desk with a small mountain of essays waiting for him to mark with red ink. The sight made me feel apologetic to whatever class had been given that assignment, considering that it was the first school day back from the holiday. "Your task is to clean cauldrons", Snape stated as he pinned me in place with his coal-black eyes. "Not to stare off in the distance".

I shifted in my seat and set the scrub brush down. Much to Snape's displeasure. "Professor Snape", I started. Causing Snape to furrow his brows as he glared at me; daring me to continue. But after being exposed to a teacher like Lockhart/Riddle, I didn't find Snape as intimidating as I used to. "What does the word equal mean?" Of course, I knew the definition. But I thought hearing the answer paraphrased by someone else might give me a different insight.

"That, Weasley", Snape spoke slowly with disdain. "Is a question meant for a dictionary".

I sighed. I knew Snape had just given me a disguised order to shut up. But a small part of me was having fun, so I said, "Oh. So, you don't know". Snape's glare turned murderous and in a normal mood, if I wasn't so preoccupied, I would have been affected. However, I kept going. "I was thinking-"

Snape cut me off. "Then congratulations are in order", he said sardonically. "I know how difficult a feat thinking must be for you". Is it just me, or was Snape gripping his quill just a little too tightly?

"That the word equal might have different meanings to different people in different contexts", I continued as if Snape hadn't said anything. Though Snape did look like he would very much enjoy throwing his inkwell at me. "What do you think, Professor?" I asked, playing with fire.

"I think", Snape started with a low growl. "That this is detention. Not a seminar. Therefore, your reflections on the meaning of words are unwarranted. Now, be quiet and clean those cauldrons so I may be rid of you as soon as possible".

I shrugged as I picked up the scrub brush, deciding to give Snape a respite. Pulling a cauldron closer to me, I tipped it to its side and got to work. But I wasn't working very long before the door swung open and a slightly panicked voice filled the room, "Professor Snape!"

Looking over my shoulder I got a good look at one of the younger Slytherins. I didn't recognize her, but she was short and undeveloped. Meaning that she had to either be a first or second year. "Miss Parkinson", Snape said as if he was nursing a headache. "Would warrants this dramatic entrance?"

Not reading his tone, the girl continued in the same fashion she had entered the room in. "Goyle got his hand stuck in a toilet". Her answer caused me to snort obnoxiously loud. I tried to cover my mouth to keep it contained but failed miserably if Snape's furious expression was anything to go off. "One of the prefects tried to solve the problem by vanishing the toilet, but now there's water gushing everywhere". Snape's right started to twitch. "It's flowing down the boys' staircase like a waterfall". I choked on a chuckle. "And no one can figure out how to make it stop". Parkinson finished.

Snape stood up, although it was very clear that he wanted nothing to do with this situation. He started moving around his desk as he called out orders to me. "You are to stay here; silently. And when I get back you have better have finished cleaning at least four of these cauldrons". Snape reached the down where Parkinson stood waiting for him. He turned around; probably to make sure I was actually listening. "If I find that you are short by even one, you will be serving detention with me every day this week".

I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help myself. "But I thought you wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible, Professor".

Snape didn't reward me with a response as he swept out of the room with Parkinson chasing his heels. As the door slammed shut behind them, I allowed myself to freely laugh as I turned back to the cauldron I was currently working on. Got his hand stuck in a toilet? How did that occur? Though, I'm sure I'll hear all about it tomorrow from Adrian.

I probably worked for about five minutes when I heard the door open again. The sound of the hinges squeaking made me roll my eyes. "That's not fair, Professor Snape". I complained. "You can't expect me to have cleaned four cauldrons-" I said as I turned around. But who I saw entering the room had me falling silent. My blood ran cold and I dropped the scrub brush as the newcomer closed the door behind him.

"You're a difficult person to talk to, Miss Weasley", Lockhart said as he turned to face me. He was wearing purple robes today. Not Dumbledore purple; more of a royal purple. But it didn't fit his devious smile. In fact, I doubt this was Lockhart standing in front of me at all. "Ever since you got yourself pulled from my class, there's always been someone accompanying you for every step you make".

Please, Fred and George. I found myself praying. Please be watching the map. But I knew that they weren't. Wood had scheduled a team meeting. It was too dark to hold a practice, but that didn't mean Wood would miss a chance to make his team study his playbook. "Do you need something, Professor Lockhart?" I asked as I tried to hide my trembling. My mouth had suddenly become dry and I was finding it difficult to speak. "Professor Snape just left but he will be back any minute". I lied. It was the same trick every single woman should know. Never tell a date you live alone. Always tell them you have a roommate that is waiting for you to come home at a specific time. I was doing the same thing with Lockhart now. Except instead of a roommate waiting for me, it was a professor that would come back at any moment. And then, just because I didn't want to give him a reason to wait with me for Snape to return, I added, "I'd be happy to pass on a message to him".

Evil glinted in Lockhart's blue eyes. "I'm sure you would, Miss Weasley", Lockhart mocked as he walked closer. I stood up and skirted around the other side of the lab table. As if that was a good enough shield to keep Lockhart/Riddle away. The possessed Professor continued to approach as he said, "But I think we both know why I'm here". He was only two tables away. "As you so eloquently put in the last class you had with me, a better name to call me by is Professor Riddle". One table away.

I slipped a shaking hand downwards; like I was trying to get into my pocket for my wand. Before I remembered that I had taken my robe off to clean cauldrons. And by now, Riddle was closer to my robe than I was. Dread dropped to the pit of my stomach like a stone sinking in water. Was this it? Was I facing death? Clearly, I was bad at living. I was in my twenties when Jessie died. But this time I hadn't even made it out of my teens. Was I ever going to experience middle age? "You're not Gilderoy Lockhart", I said without meaning to speak.

Riddle stopped his pursuit; his arms hanging at his sides as he gave me a simpering smile. I gulped. "How did you know?" He asked.

"I didn't", I answered, my voice coming out meek. Not at all like my usual volume. "I mean, I wa-wasn't completely sure".

Riddle seemed to bask in my unease as he hummed at my answer. "Was it at the quidditch game where I temporarily disabled Potter?" Riddle asked, spatting Harry's name like it left a terrible aftertaste.

My breathing had picked up, but I managed a response. "After", I said honestly. Too panicked to lie. I didn't want to die. Despite knowing about Riddle and all the impending hardship, I like my current life. I wanted more time with Fred and George. I wanted to learn how to cook more dishes from Mum and explain muggle things to Dad. I wanted to… to see where things would go with Adrian. But, for the second time in my two lives, I was staring at the face of a killer.

"How?" Riddle asked smoothly. He took another step closer to me. I was frozen in place; fear locking my muscles.

"I- I don't know". My voice came out in a moist squeak. "I have- have memories. Memories that don't belong to me", I admitted.

Riddle took another step. Now, he was so close that I had no problem hearing him when he whispered, "Tell me. Tell me the name that I prefer".

I gulped even though there was nothing to swallow. "Lord Voldemort", I whispered in return; almost quieter than him. The first tear of many fell down my left cheek.

Riddle let out a sinister laugh that bounced off the stone walls like a bad omen. He reached out clapped a hand onto each of my shoulders. I flinched at the contact but didn't have the courage to push him off. "I knew I was right", Riddle congratulated himself as pulled me in closer. "You made a good show of avoiding me, my dear. But this was inevitable". The blue eyes of Gilderoy Lockhart that carried the devilish glint of Riddle bored into my face. I started to shed more tears. Positive that in a matter of mere seconds I would be embarking on life number three. But then the things Riddle was saying stopped making sense. "So, I succeeded", Riddle said more to himself. But he appeared to not mind that I overheard him. "I made more than just one. I'm not the only one".

I had no idea what Riddle meant by 'not the only one', and I wasn't in any hurry to find out. Instead, I stayed completely still. Hoping without hope that Riddle would forget about me. It was too soon. Too soon to say goodbye to Holly.

"Though why I chose the daughter of blood traitors, I'll never know", Riddle spoke darkly as his eyes studied me with great scrutiny like I was lesser. Like I was lacking. And I imagine in his eyes, I was. But I couldn't figure out why any of that warranted him to comment on it if he was just going to dispose of me. And I had no idea what he was getting on about by 'chose'. Riddles' eyes returned to my tear-stained face as I continued to quake under his hands. His face didn't soften, but he cooed at me like I was an abandoned puppy. "Don't worry". He said as he let go of one of my shoulders. He reached up and traced a misleadingly gentle finger over my jaw bone. A different type of tremor shot up my spine. "My precious Horcrux. You may be unworthy. But what your body contains makes you indisposable".

My breath hitched. He-he thought…. That I-I was…. "Horcrux?" I voiced in a rough whisper. How could he come to that conclusion?

But Riddle thought I was asking something else. He smiled as he withdrew his hand from my face and stepped away from me altogether. "Yes", he started to explain. "A Horcrux. A container of a soul fragment".

The thought train that had controlled my head for days came to an official end and a new one immediately took its place. Riddle thought… he thought that I was… like him. Like the diary. Made after him. By an older Tom Riddle. By Lord Voldemort. My head hurt and I couldn't decide if Riddle's blunder in logic was something I could use or something that would have nastier consequences than simply being killed. But why would he think that I was… I recalled everything I said in defense class; that time I had called him Professor riddle. I had revealed things that I shouldn't have known. "My memories", I whispered to myself; almost in disbelief. I stopped crying. Too busy fitting strings of information together to be overly emotional.

But Riddle heard me. "Yes", he agreed; seemingly pleased that I was catching up. "As soon as that oaf Lockhart gave me enough of his life force that I could control his body, I sensed that there was another roaming Hogwarts. But Lockhart's magical core is unfortunately weak", Riddle said with a sneer, like others' shortcomings were personally offensive. "I could never pinpoint what, or rather who, the Horcrux was".

"You can sense other parts of your soul?" I asked.

"Can't you?" Riddle countered.

I sensed this was a test and my mind immediately went blank. But my guy saw an opportunity and in a true Gryffindor fashion, I reacted. "Yes", I lied before I realized what I was doing. "S-so…" I stuttered. "If you found me", It felt weird to say such a simple thing in this context. "Have you had luck finding the third?" Instantly, I was wracking my brain; trying to remember if Dumbledore had the ring yet. He didn't, right? The only Horcruxes in the castle right now was Harry, the diary, and the diadem. If that was correct, then maybe… maybe I'll see tomorrow.

Riddle raised a poised eyebrow. "There's a third", he asked, sounding intrigued.

Having found my footing, I took a deep breath before asking, "Can't you sense it?"

Riddle quirked the lips on Lockhart's face. "Tell me".

Before I could utter anything about the diadem or the room of requirement, the door to the potions classroom swung opened; allowing Snape and his billowing black robes re-entry. Riddle turned away from me at the sound. At once, I bent over and my shoulders heaved for lungs full of air. I hadn't realized how little my breaths had become until I was gasping for it.

Snape's temper hadn't improved in the time that he spent sorting out the unplanned pool party in Slytherin house. "What are you doing here?" He asked Lockhart/Riddle; glowering.

"I was in need of some potion ingredients". Lockhart said. Gone were the psychopathically smooth tones of Horcrux riddle. And in its place was the egotistical manners of a man who believed he was beloved by all. "Miss Weasley was generously helping me".

Peering around Lockhart, I tried to communicate with Snape through my eyes. Please, I thought. Please see that this was much, much more than just potion ingredients. Snape's eyes flickered over my face briefly. But he seemed unwilling to look away from Lockhart for long. I almost wished that Snape would invade my mind just so he could see and hear everything Riddle had said and done. But I know that wouldn't work. All that would do was make me seize on the floor and reveal that I was a reincarnated soul. That would assuredly plant a seed of doubt in Riddle's logic that I contained a piece of his fractured essence. "My stores of ingredients are not for the use of staff", Snape said sternly.

Lockhart nodded. "As Miss Weasley just told me", he said as he started to move towards Snape. "Please don't ask what I needed them for", Lockhart spoke in a good-natured voice. "It's a secret. One Miss Weasley promised to keep". It was spoken casually, but I heard it for what it was; a warning. Lockhart's head swung towards me. "We'll talk soon, Miss Weasley. Keep up your good work". And he left. Lockhart left out of the door, leaving me alone with Snape.

I could hear my heart beating loudly. I stood up straight to watch Lockhart/Riddle leave. I needed to see with my own eyes that he was no longer in the room. As I did this, one of my hands flew up to grip the pendant hanging around my neck. My fingers traced the little crystals embedded in it. He was gone. He was gone for now, and I was alive. I was still Holly.

"Weasley", Snape said hesitantly. He didn't want to, but he was obligated to do so. "Are you alright?"

I took a couple more breaths before I felt safe enough to turn my eyes to Snape. He was standing a comfortable distance away from me. He was even holding both of his hands at his sides instead of folded across his chest like he usually does. This allowed me to see both of his hands. I'm not sure why it mattered. But at that moment, it meant a lot. His lips were forming a thin line as he studied me. For once, Snape appeared in no rush to force an answer from a student. Having no idea what I should do or how I should even start, I reached up with my hand that wasn't holding my necklace and rubbed my eyes dry. "I didn't finish cleaning even one cauldron, Professor". It was the only thing I felt safe admitting.

Even though I had just given a comment that would usually cause Snape to at least dock house points, all Snape did was shift his weight from one foot to the other. He eyed me. He eyed the stacks of dirty cauldrons. And he took his time like he needed to phrase it just right before he said, "This one time, I will forgive you inadequacy. Only because you look more like a ghost than a girl". Snape stepped forward. Like someone expecting a blow, my breath hitched and I flinched violently when he passed me to get to his desk. Snape noticed. I could tell because he paused right after I reacted. Concern could be read in his dark eyes before it was successfully masked. "Collect your things and go", Snape ordered as he continued his path back to his marking.

  
I took a couple of small and shaky steps forward to retrieve my robe and wand. That sounded like a wonderful idea. I would return to Gryffindor tower, liberate Fred and George from Wood's clutches, and… and…. How was I going to get back to Gryffindor Tower? I'd have to walk. It was after dinner. There wouldn't be many students wandering the halls. What if Riddle found me? What if he was waiting for me? I turned around. "S-Sir?" I stammered, not feeling like myself at all. At the moment, it didn't bother me. But I know I will kick myself for it later. Snape looked in my direction. He hadn't managed to sit down in his desk chair yet, but he had been about to. "Would you-" I had to stop once before I managed to get all my words out. "Would you walk me back to Gryffindor Tower?" If I wasn't so cold… If I wasn't trembling… If adrenaline wasn't surging through my veins, I probably would be blushing. I doubt any student had ever asked Snape such a question.

As evident by the absolute blindsided expression on his face. What was he thinking? Was he wondering what had happened that would cause me to be afraid to walk by myself? It wasn't long before Snape schooled his face into his typical expressionless state. "I will do no such thing". My shoulders dropped. I was afraid of that. "But", Snape spoke up. "I will summon a house-elf to accompany you".

I felt a surge of gratitude and it must have shown in my eyes because Snape appeared to become very uncomfortable. "Did I ever tell you that you're my favorite teacher?" For the first time in my life, I think I saw Snape's worried expression. 


	65. What Happened?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

What Happened?

I was still shaking when I slipped through the portrait hole into the common room. Though, I tried to hide it by keeping my hands in my robe pockets. There was no hiding my emotional state from Fred and George, but I didn't need my housemates knowing my business. Standing at the edge of everything, I scanned the common room. At first glance, things looked normal. The usual friend groups were sitting together with their homework or games spread out in front of them. Wood and team were sitting together just as I expected them to be; around the table that's set up next to the windows. Wood was doing all the talking, but the only one who seemed to be listening was Katie. And probably just because she was being polite. Alicia was preoccupied with a nail file and it looked like Angelina was working on the essay Sprout had assigned. What was out of place was the absence of Fred and George. In my current state, their absence aggravated me. Where were they? Wood never tolerated his players to miss team meetings, even if they don't pay attention when they do attend. I mean, Merlin! Wood made everyone have a team meeting in the hospital wing when he had to stay there overnight due to a quidditch practice injury.

I took a deep breath to draw upon any semblance of calm. Maybe they just had to go to the bathroom, I thought as I approached the quidditch team. That could be it. Even if it was weird that Fred and George would have to use the loo at the same time. When I reached their table, I didn't wait for Wood to notice me. I didn't wait for him to pause. I talked over the quidditch captain, achieving two things; cutting off Wood and alerting everyone else to my being there. "Where's Fred and George?' I asked. Vaguely proud of myself when my voice didn't shake.

Alicia and Angelina turned around in their seats to see me as Wood closed the notebook that was sitting in front of him. "We're in a meeting", he said, making it sound like interrupting a confession in a courtroom. The only person who didn't have any visible reaction to my presence was Katie.

There must have been something in my complexion or my expression that worried my roommates because they both started to rise from their seats. "Holly-" Angelina started to say.

I cut her off. "Where's Fred and George?" I asked again. My voice sounded far away. Like I was listening to it from underwater.

Wood sighed like he is the square peg and I'm the round hole; we just don't understand each other. "They went upstairs ten minutes ago with Potter and your little brother", Wood relented. Probably just so he could get rid of me and go back to boring the girls with his playbook.

I scrunched up my nose. Why would Fred and George go up to the dorms with Ron and Harry? But now that I took a second glance at Gryffindor's quidditch team, I notice that Harry was missing. Not knowing how I should be feeling about this abnormality, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply through my nose. "Okay", I said again before I opened my eyes. I looked at Wood. "Thanks", I said as I started to turn away.

Angelina and Alicia paused halfway between a standing and sitting position. "Is everything alright?" Alicia called after me.

I shook my head at her as I passed by her seat to the stairs leading to the boys' dorms. "Everything's fine", I lied; hoping that no one noticed when my voice cracked at the word 'fine'. What are the odds of Harry and Ron hanging out with Fred and George is harmless? I asked myself as I took two stairs at a time. But I knew better. Neither George, Fred, nor Harry would ditch Wood just to goof off.

Assuming they wouldn't have gone for the second-year boys' dorm, I head straight for Fred and George's dorm room. I didn't knock on the door and just let myself in. I knew I had guessed the right room when five heads swiveled in my direction with their mouths clamped shut. The fifth head belonging to Hermione. Yeah, this was more than just Fred and George hanging out with the younger boys. Hermione and Harry sat on Lee's bed while Ron was on George's bed with George. And Fred had his bed to himself.

When their eyes registered that it was me who had walked in on them, all their spines relaxed. "We did it!" Hermione said excitedly as I closed the door behind me. She sounded like a poodle who had just performed a trick as was expecting a treat.

"Did what?" I asked a bit dazed as I made a beeline for Fred's bed. Fred moved over so there was room for me to squeeze against him and both of us could rest our backs against the headboard.

"What you told us to do", Hermione replied as I made myself comfortable. Or as comfortable as I could feel at the moment.

"What we told you?" I questioned, distractedly as I curled into Fred's side and buried my face in the space between his shoulder joint and chest. In response, Fred slung an arm around me. I clutched the fabric of his shirt and let out a deep tremor. The arm Fred had around me became tighter and I focused on the weight of it; grounding myself.

"We freed Dobby!" Hermione exclaimed; apparently, she had no more patience for my slowness.

They freed Dobby, I repeated in my head. They.. freed….Dobby. It wasn't making any sense. Dobby… Dobby who? Dobby the house-elf? My muscles tensed and my eyes widened. They freed Dobby! I snapped up, smacking my head against the bottom of Fred's chin.

"Merlin, Holly", he complained as he tried to rub some of the pain away.

"How did you do that?" I asked, turning my eyes onto the second-years on sitting on Lee's bed. Absent-mindedly, I reached up a hand to rub my own sore spot on the top of my head.

All three second-years opened their mouths at once; seemingly eager to regale us with the tale of their success. "I got Ginny to help", Ron blurted out.

"I made sure no else knew we were there", Harry contributed.

"It was my plan", Hermione said.

George raised a hand as he shook his head. "Wait, slow down", he asked. "Start at the beginning".

And suddenly it was story time with the golden trio. Hermione took charge. Starting at the very beginning with how she got the idea. "It's all thanks to Peeves, really". She admitted. "We were walking back to the common room from the library and he knocked my books out of my arms and was flying them around the hallway. At first, we didn't know that it was Peeves doing it because he chose to be invisible. But his cackling gave him away. And I thought, how overwhelming would it be if it was more than just my books? What if it was everything in my trunk? I might not even notice if something out of place was to occur". Hermione took a moment to smile wickedly at us fourth-years. "Like a family house-elf being at school rather than at home".

Harry took over from there; explaining how they had informed Dobby of the plan. Apparently, the house-elf had been visiting with the boy-who-lived ever since they were introduced months ago back in the hospital wing. I wasn't sure if I should feel alarmed by that fact. "Once Dobby was on board, we practiced a bunch on exactly how we were going to get Malfoy's clothes to fly around the room".

Ron gave me a hard look from where he was sitting. "We were ready before the holiday, but you said we had to wait".

Deciding to ignore him, I didn't even roll my eyes; too much on my mind to be bothered by my little brother's tone. "How did you get into the Slytherin common room?" I asked.

Ron beamed and shot Harry a look that seemed to make the other boy uncomfortable. "I talked Ginny into letting us in. She didn't want to at first. But when I mentioned that it was for Harry, she caved", Harry started blushing and he refused to look at us older Weasleys. "Ginny fancies him".

Ignoring that comment, "And you… just knew how to get to Malfoy's dorm?" Fred asked.

Hermione cast us a suspicious look. "Aren't you going to ask how we got around without any of the other Slytherins seeing us?"

And it was a point. That should have been a major concern on Fred, George, and my lists of questions. Except, we knew things that the three second-year didn't. I waved my left hand in the air like I was brushing away her question. "Oh please. We know about Harry's invisibility cloak". As soon as I said it, I wondered if I shouldn't have. But it was too late to take it back.

Harry stared and Fred and me with wide boggled eyes. His glasses slipped further down his nose as Hermione narrowed her eyes. "How?" Ron sputtered from George's bed.

George pulled Ron into a loose headlock. One Ron could easily break out of if he wanted to. "That's because we, Ronnikins, know everything". All three members of the golden trio stiffened dramatically, which was interesting. What else do they have that they don't want us to know about?

But we are getting off track. "Dobby", I reminded everyone.

"Right". Harry shook his head before continuing. "Malfoy was in the common room when we got there, so we stood in a corner and followed him when he started leaving. He led us straight to his dorm".

Hermione shifted on Lee's bed. Like she was setting aside the new clue we had just given her for later. "We were lucky that known of Malfoy's roommates were there. As soon as we figured out which trunk was his, we started casting".

Ron ducked out from under George's arm before continuing. "We started out small. A piece of parchment, or a sock. And worked our way up to having everything the git owns was flying around the room". Ron started grinning; very very pleased with himself. "Even his underwear".

"Malfoy was shouting and spinning around the room trying to avoid being hit by anything", Harry said. "He was demanding that whoever was doing it to stop at once. At one point he even thought we were Peeves. But I'm not sure why. Peeves doesn't go into student dorms, right?"

And it was a question no one knew the answer to. No one had ever seen Peeves in the common rooms or the dorms. But that didn't mean he couldn't get in. "Once Malfoy was panicking, it was Dobby's turn". Hermione moved on. "We told him when we would carry out our plan and asked him if he could get into Malfoy's dorm. Dobby said that he could. That he would be in the room and wait for us to signal him when he should make himself known". Hermione took a deep breath; building up to the climax of their story. "I gave the signal. Malfoy was too scared to hear it. And Dobby appeared behind him".

"Like we planned", Ron jumped in. "As soon as I saw Dobby I made one of Malfoy's shirts attack him. It hit him in the head and covered his whole face".

"Then Dobby asked Malfoy if he wanted any assistance", Harry reported; a smile growing on his face.

"Malfoy ripped the shirt off his face and handed it to Dobby, screaming, 'here, take the bloody thing!'", Hermione said; grinning from ear-to-ear. "And then Dobby was free and apparated away before Malfoy even realized what was happening. Did you know house-elves could apparate from inside Hogwarts? It's fascinating, really".

Neither myself nor my fellow triplets had an answer for her. I locked eyes with Fred; my mouth hanging open and feeling gobsmacked. That plan of theirs… it actually worked? It was hard to believe. It sounded so elaborate and a lot of it depended on luck. Malfoy had to be in the right place. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to do all of that without getting seen or heard. What if a Slytherin had accidentally stepped on the hem of the invisibility cloak? What if Ginny hadn't decided to help? There were too many variables. They shouldn't have been successful, and yet… they were. Talk about dumb luck.

"How did you get out of the Slytherin common room?" George asked.

Ron shrugged. "That was hard", he admitted. "We thought that when Malfoy started shouting, everyone would run up the stairs and block us in". I reached up and ran a hand over my tired eyes. And yet, they decided to go ahead with their plan without any exit strategy? Merlin, help me. "But we were lucky. All the Slytherins were distracted by Goyle getting his hand stuck in a toilet and no one noticed Malfoy screaming". So, they hadn't played any part with Goyle and the infamous toilet. It would make more sense if they had. The coincidence was just too much. Maybe Dobby had done something…. I was scrambling to find logic in a seemingly illogical situation.

"We managed to slip out when Parkinson went to go get Snape", Hermione finished their story. She gave us a couple of seconds to think further on everything the second-years had just shared with us. But no longer than that. She had more on her agenda. "Now that Dobby is freed, we can help you with Lockhart and the Diary". And everything that happened in the last hour came rushing back to me with a force of vengeance. The story about Dobby's liberation had distracted me. But that was over. "I still think we should tell Dumble-"

"No!" I said very loudly and very abruptly. Everyone was looking at me as the tremor in my hands returned tenfold. My breaths become short as something in my chest tightened. Snape had left. Snape had left me alone… and Lockhart found me. "No one is going near Lockhart". My voice cracked. Not because I was open to argument but because I was one step away from hysterical. Stinging tears left the corners of my eyes. I felt like I had no control over my own body; almost like I was watching myself react from a distance. "No one-" I managed to get out before words escaped me and all I could do was wheeze on choked-back sobs. Snapping my eyes shut so I didn't have to look at everything looking at me, I wrapped my arms around my stomach as it churned anxiously.

"Holly", Fred started as he sat up behind me. "Holly, what happened?" He asked; worry evident in his tone as his arms wrapped around me and pulled me in close.

Exhaling and inhaling through my mouth, I fought for some control. To breath normally again. But nothing worked. It was like a stone was lodged in my chest; keeping my lungs pressed down. I was alone with Lockhart… he said… he thought… "Lockhart, he-" I got two words out before my body shut down again. Turning in Fred's arm, I buried my head into his chest. Just in time too. Because once my face was hidden, there was no stopping the onslaught of waterworks. Despite the fact that I had rammed my head into his chin earlier, Fred held me as tightly as he could; even placing his chin on top of my head.

"You had detention with Snape, right?" I heard George asked. I heard him move. The bed Fred and I were sitting on compressed on the left as it accepted George's weight. A warm hand came into contact between my two shoulder blades and started making circles. "When did you run into Lockhart?"

He had found me…. Riddle thought that I was…. He acted like he… like he owned me. I shook my head furiously against Fred's chest. I couldn't say anything about that. I needed to tell them everything. But I couldn't. Not right now. So, the abridged version it was. "Snape left", I forced out in one gasp.

"Because of Goyle and the toilet". Hermione whispered from Lee's bed. Her voice was absent of her usual confidence.

I didn't confirm that she was right. There was no need. Everyone knew she was. Lockhart had gotten way too close, and I hadn't been prepared. "He was-" I had to wait for the tremor in my voice to die down before I could finish. "-waiting for me to be alone". Oh, Merlin! What if Riddle had something to do with Goyle and the toilet? There's no way he could have planned something like that, right?

Fred tensed and his arms became stone. "What did he do?" His voice contained a hard edge that forced an uncharacteristically loud sob out of me. It had reminded me of that night. The night before I became Holly. Unable to run. No conviction to fight back. Despite surviving it once before, I feared death when I saw its approach. The only things that had been missing was a knife and stab wounds. And I thought I could handle Lockhart/ Riddle by kicking him in the balls. How stupid can I be?

"Snape", I started to say; skipping over everything my brothers and Harry and Hermione wanted to know. "He-he came back. B-before Lockhart could… go too far".

Fred shook me. "What did he do, Holly? Did he hurt you?" Fred was close to yelling at this point. But I was finding it difficult to react to his urgency. It was like I was reliving it all over again. Lockhart. In Snape's classroom. Alone. He had called me a Horcrux. Called me by pet names that made my skin crawl. He had stood unwelcomingly close; touching my face without my consent.

"Snape", was the only thing I seemed capable of saying even though I knew I needed to tell Fred and George about the Horcrux bit. "Snape returned before anything could happen". Merlin, bless Snape.

George's hand stilled on my back. And I could only imagine what expression his face must be wearing. "Fred, I don't think we're going to get anything else out of her right now", George said, not addressing the golden trio at all. "What we know is that Lockhart did something, and we need to keep Holly safe until she can tell us what".

"I'll bloody kill him", Ron blurted out in his best enraged voice. "He can't just- just-" Ron tried to express but seemed to lack the words.

I couldn't see what everyone was doing, and I wasn't too motivated to find out. But I could take a guess based on what they were saying. "Sit down and shut up", Fred barked to our younger brother. "It's bad enough Holly's like this. Do you think we're going to let the same thing happen to you?"

"Now, we really should tell Dumbledore", Hermione broke in. "If he knew what we did-"

"We already tried", George cut her off, voice grim. "We already tried to tell Dumbledore and all he did was put Lockhart on probation".

"Why wouldn't he help?" Harry whispered in disbelief.

"Why doesn't matter", Fred growled as he continued to hold me in an iron grip. "We have to figure this out for ourselves".


	66. In Pairs

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

In Pairs

Everything came out the next morning. Early in the morning. Before any healthy person was awake. I hadn't left Fred and George's dorm. Ron and friends did; shuffled out by my fellow trips while they made the second-years promise not to do anything or tell anyone unless they told them to. But it was unclear if making the golden trio promise was good enough to make them not react. I'm not sure how it happened. I don't remember. But I ended up in a pair of George's sleep clothes and cocooned in Fred's blankets on his bed. Fred and George moved quietly; getting ready themselves. They took turns going to the bathroom to brush their teeth; never leaving me alone for a moment. They whispered quiet words to each other as they changed clothes; too quiet for me to hear. A joint levitation spell made it easy when they decided to move George's bed next to Fred's. And then, even though it was too early to turn in, Fred and George laid down on either side of me and drew the curtains. There were no complaints about how I was hogging most of the covers. There was no digging for more information. No attempt at offering verbal reassurances. Instead, they were just there. Guarding my sides and holding vigilance.

I'm not sure when it happened. But after I could breathe again without fighting against a strain, I found sleep. It wasn't a good type of sleep. It was the type where you restlessly walk the edge between consciousness and slumber. Any small sound would pull me back to my current reality. It happened when Lee came in. And the other two no-name roommates; grumbling under their breathes about why we triplets were so weird. But it never took much to pull me back under. Sometimes it was the consistent sound of George inhaling and exhaling. Other times it was the feeling of Fred's hand on my hip; keeping me grounded. However; the sleep state wasn't better. Waiting for me were horrors where memories clashed with imagination.

My back was pressed against the cold dirt floor again. A person sat on top of me; pinning me down with a knee in the dirt on either side of me. I screamed and cried. "No, stop! Please! It's not too late! Please, someone, help me!" But no one heard. No one came. The only thing I could focus on was the gleam of a knife's blade looming over me. It was the same memory. The same nightmare as always. The stabbing would happen next. I'd gurgle and choke on my own blood. What was about to happen was inevitable. All I would focus on until I could claw my way back to consciousness would be knives and blood. Except this time, there were changes. Changes that made this less of a memory and more of a nightmare. It wasn't Jessie lying on the ground; begging for her life. And it wasn't her murderer pinning me down. Despite never remembering who it was who killed me, I knew that face staring down at me with a twisted expression and psychotic glint in their eyes wasn't the guilty party.

"You can't escape. You can't escape", the loon repeated like a mantra. The knife plunged downwards; jolting my body as it got buried up to its hilt in my being; somehow avoiding any bone. "You can't escape". Glossy, brown hair swished back and forth from my attacker's head as she pulled the knife out and repeated her actions. There was nothing I could do. "You can't escape. You're not better than me. Holly Weasley, you're not better than me!"

Jessie was on top of me. She held the knife. I was pinning myself down. I was killing myself. "Sorry", I muttered weakly as a warm gush of blood bubbled out of my mouth and stained my lips. "Sorry, but I have to try. For our sake, please. Let me try".

With a furious scream, Jessie plunged the knife again and again. Each time hurt less and less as things started to fade. The last thing I heard was, "you don't belong there".

Shooting up from the warmth and safety my brothers had wrapped me in, I clamped one hand over my mouth. It was completely dark. I had no idea what time it was, and I didn't care. Somehow, I managed to untangle my legs from the sheets and blankets. Acting on instinct, I scrambled over Fred. Not slowing; even when he mumbled drowsily, "Holly? What's going on?"

As soon as my feet hit the chilled floor of the fourth-year boys' dormitory, I was racing for their bathroom. My hand never leaving my mouth. At the nearest toilet, I dropped to my knees. Only then did I uncover my mouth. Gripping the porcelain bowl with both of my hands, I let out two heaving air bubbles before emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. A pause allowed for two new rounds of inhaling and exhaling; my shoulders rising and falling with the effort. And then, I did it again. Someone said the spell that turned on the lights. But I didn't notice until my hair was being pulled out of the way and held back. Someone else reached around me and flushed. I didn't have to ask who was in the bathroom with me. There were only two people at Hogwarts who would follow me into a boys' bathroom.

I heaved again. But there wasn't anything left to vomit. With shaky breaths, I sat back away from the toilet and nodded; signaling that I was done. "You haven't thrown up from a nightmare since we were four", Fred said from my left. He was the one who had flushed.

George smoothed down my hair; making sure none of it would end up in my face. "Do you think you need to see Pomfrey?" He asked. "It's about three o'clock in the morning. So, if you need to go to the hospital wing, we should probably get Percy or contact McGonagall to take us".

It's weird. I'm beyond tired and my hands are still a trembling mess, but it was like emptying my guts untied my tongue, and steeled my nerves in the process. That description is missing something, but I don't know how else to describe it. Everything just started coming out. "Riddle thinks I'm a Horcrux like him", I admitted, my voice hoarse. But at least it didn't sound panic-stricken anymore.

Fred and George passed a look over my head before saying together, "come again?"

Reaching up, I massaged my temples. The pressure I was feeling behind my skull was maddening. "In Snape's classroom", I started to explain. "Lockhart… er, Riddle told me he thought I was like him. A Horcrux. I think he got that impression from all the stuff I said; calling him Professor Riddle in class, and saying that I wanted to teach the dark arts". My mouth was dry and tasted awful. But I smacked my lips and kept going. "He's just a memory himself, so he only has the memories of you-know-who up until the diary Horcrux was made. We don't know how much he's learned from inhabiting Lockhart's body or from Lockhart himself. But I don't think he knows about the other Horcruxes. Not who they are or what they are". I stared at the bathroom tile as Fred and George fidgeted next to me. Was that everything that I needed to tell them? "Oh, and he said he can sense other Horcruxes. But not very well, because Lockhart's weak. Whatever he's sensing, I think he's confusing me with Harry, and he didn't seem to know about the third Horcrux in the castle".

The three of us sat on the bathroom floor in silence as everything I said sunk in. It was a lot to think about. The type of thoughts that changed plans and intentions. "Bloody hell", George groaned. "Jolly Holly, you're… you're an absolute nightmare".

Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself and tilted my head in his direction. "I'm aware", I said softly; visions of Jessie killing Holly flashed before my eyes. "Sorry. I'm trying not to be".

Fred pulled our attention over to him. "The way you were crying…" He trailed off; shaking his head aggravatingly as he reframed what he wanted to say. "The way you couldn't answer us, we thought he… tried something with you". Fred glanced at the ground; refusing to look at me.

Oh… Well, that helped me understand why he seemed so uncomfortable. "Nothing like that happened", I assured. Even though it had felt similar to that type of advance. Maybe because Riddle was in a Professor's body… It was a feeling to explore at any rate. "But I think Snape got the same impression you two did. It definitely didn't look good".

George sighed heavily. "This is it, isn't it?" He asked. Like always, he was the fastest at recognizing what events meant for the big picture.

"Yeah", I agreed. Taking the time to look both of my fellow triplets in the eyes. "It's time to end this".

* * *

"Okay, new plan", Fred announced the next morning to the golden trip at breakfast. Ron and Hermione were sitting at one side of the table; looking startled at our sudden appearance. Harry was sitting across from them and had to twist his spine in order to see us. Ad we were a sight to see with black bags under our eyes. Fred clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder; making the smaller flinch under the contact. "Holly's hopeless and we can't leave her alone". Which was a statement that instantly had me scowling. I know we had to fill them in with some of our decisions, but he didn't have to introduce the new plan by making fun of me.

"Lockhart has a thing for Holly", George said; looking pained as soon as it came out of his mouth. With a light push on my shoulder, George gestured for me to take a seat next to Harry. With a roll of my eyes, I complied. Fred and George sat down on either side of us; making it easier to bend our heads together and talk more privately. "We're going to use that to find the diary and get it back".

"After that, we can work on getting rid of Lockhart", Fred added. "And then we can start on trying to destroy the diary again".

"But if Lockhart's possessed, he may not be aware what he's doing", Hermione argued.

This time though, I knew of to cut her off before she really got going. "Hermione", I spoke with earnest; peering at her with eyes that I know were watering. "I can't be in the castle with him any longer, please".

Hermione bit her lip. Her eyes became very invested in the tabletop as she thought on her talking points. But what she must have seen last night while I had my break down appeared to be enough to make her relent. A small nod was the only response we got that Hermione was on board.

"Until we're ready to move", Fred continued. "We all are going to stay in pairs. Me with George. Ron with Hermione, and Holly with Harry". I shot Fred a look. That wasn't apart of the plan. I mean, we had discussed me staying close to Harry just in case Lockhart/ Riddle figured out that I wasn't a Horcrux. If Harry, the actually Horcrux, and I stayed close we may be able to keep Lockhart/ Riddle believing in this ruse longer. And the more time we had the better. But that morning, when we had strategized on the bathroom floor, we hadn't made the Harry-Holly pair an official part of the plan.

Ron scrunched up his nose. "How would that work? They're in different years and we have classes". Yes, a good point Ron. We do have classes and the Professors weren't about to let me sit in with the second-years or a second-year attend lessons with the fourth-years. I eyed Fred and George distrustfully. Identical, almost manic, grins grew on their faces.

"Oh, don't worry", George said.

"We already worked that out", Fred finished. My left eye started to twitch. Whatever they were doing, I have a pretty strong hunch that I wasn't going to like it.

"How?" Hermione asked.

Instead of answering her, George turned towards me. "Holly, can you put your right hand, palm up on the table please?"

"No", was my immediate response.

My refusal did nothing to dampen the width of their grins. "Why not?" Fred asked. "It's not going to hurt. Promise. Don't you trust us?"

The second answer came just as easily as the first. "No".

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were glancing back and forth from George to me to Fred like they were spectating a three-man game of four square. Poor Harry, caught in the middle of all this, kept adjusting his glasses. Like he was trying to decide whose side he should choose.

George placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Holls. Don't you know that we have your best interests at heart?"

I glared. "Which is something people only say when they have alternative motives". I pointed out. After spending a whole childhood with them, I knew when all signs pointed to bad news. The biggest sign being them deviating from the plan we had come up with together. This was the impenetrable hats all over again.

Before Fred or George could retort. Harry piped up. "Is whatever you're going to do going to help?" He asked slowly. "Help stop people from getting petrified? Or stop Lockhart?"

Fred nodded as George answered, "Yeah, in the long run. Mostly, it'll prevent Holly from doing something stupid".

Clicking my teeth, I turned towards Harry. "Kid, no", I said with a shake of my head. Harry leaned his head back so he could look at me through his glasses. "When these two nitwits ask you to do anything your response should be to run for the hills. Not volunteer". Seriously, I'm speaking from experience.

But Harry, being Harry, took his time as he studied my face and the faces of Fred and George. Until he asked, "What do you need me to do?"

I bowed my head and let out a long exhale through my nose as Fred clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder again. Looks like Harry's about to learn the hard way. "That-a-boy, Harry", Fred said with more energy than he had at three o'clock this morning. Git. "We knew you'd step up. Just place your left hand on the table. Palm facing up". Harry moved his breakfast plate out of the way and did just as Fred said. Fred beamed at the second-year as he leaned over him to roll Harry's sleeve up to his forearm.

"Okay", said George; scooting closer to me. "Now Holly's going to put her hand on top of Harry's," George said as he pulled out his wand.

I didn't even blink. "No way in hell".

"Aw," Fred whined. "Come on, Jolly Holly. Play along".

"Not happening".

"Um", Hermione said; drawing our attention towards her. Or, at least, my attention. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

But neither Fred nor George answered her. They took her question as a distraction. Fred reached around Harry and grabbed my right arm. I jerked away; trying to wrestle myself free. But Fred was strong and with George sitting next to me, there was nowhere for me to go. "Let go", I demanded; saying it loud enough that our housemates and even some student for the nearby table turned their heads in our direction.

"Don't be like that, Holls", George said good-naturedly as he pushed me into Harry and closer to Fred. Half a second later, Fred managed to pull my arm on top of Harry's. But not before making sure my robe sleeve had been rolled up too. Fred's hand kept my arm pressed against Harry's. A second later George had the tip of his wand pointed at our touching skin. "Epoximise", he spoke the incantation. This spell emitted no light, but I knew it worked when my skin that was in contact with Harry's started to tingle.

Fred removed his hand from my arm and I tried to pull away but took Harry's arm with me. Our skin had stuck together; so adhesive that our skin might as well have been fused together. "Damn it, you guys!" I complained as I studied Harry's and my joined arms. Was there a counterspell to this? The spell they used wasn't something I remember learning in class. But there had to be a counter, right? This wasn't like the permanent sticking charm. Fred and George have creative ways to solving their problems, but they wouldn't do something to me that would be a lifelong burden… I think. Though, I suppose Harry and I could always just sever our skin and get Madam Pomfrey to heal us.

Fred wagged a finger at me. "You can't swear today, Holly".

"Not when you have a second-year attached to your hip. Or arm in this case", George continued. "What would Mum say?" With cautious fingers, Harry poked at our joined flesh. I bet this was just as disconcerting as losing all the bones in your arm.

"Besides", Fred said quickly, before I could tell them exactly what Mum would say about this predicament. "This way none of the teachers can break you too up. You're stuck together".

Ron was watching us with his mouth hanging up. "I think this is going too far", Hermione said.

But Fred and George acted like hadn't said anything. "I think it's time we got to class, Fred", George said as he pocketed his wand and stood up.

"Right you are, George", Fred said as he too stood up. They stepped over the long bench at Gryffindor table, all the while grinning like the cats that caught the canary. I shook my head at them. Clearly, they had gotten overconfident after their success with the hair dye incident.

"Have fun with the second-years, Holly", George said as he and Fred started backing away.

"And don't worry about Pucey", Fred added. "We'll fill him in". And the gits turned tail and ran out of the great hall.

My eyes narrowed the longer I watched their fleeing backs. "I'm going to kill them", I stated. Although, no one, including myself, believed me.


	67. Captive Audience

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Captive Audience

Professor McGonagall hummed to herself as she studied mine and Harry's combined arms. Harry and I, accompanied by Ron and Hermione, decided to go to their transfiguration class early. Just on the off chance, McGonagall could undo Fred and George's efforts. Because as much as I didn't mind missing my classes, I wasn't thrilled by the prospect of repeating second-year. Even if it was only temporary. "What incantation did they use?" McGonagall asked as she finished running a long, thin finger over the part where Harry's arm and my arm became connected.

Harry shivered at the contact; suggested that he might find it ticklish. "Epoximise", I answered; not surprised when McGonagall nodded like she had expected that to be the spell Thing One and Thing Two had used.

"I take it your brother George was the one who cast the spell?" She asked; looking over Harry's and my heads as other students started filing into the room. Ron and Hermione were sitting in the front room on the claimed Gryffindor side of; watching the whole exchange. I had hoped this would have gotten sorted before classes officially started for the day. But I guess it can't be helped. If McGonagall could undo this, I wonder if she'd give me a note to excuse me for being late to Snape's class. I wonder if Snape would accept it.

But when she asked if George was the caster, I tilted my head to the side in mild confusion. "Yes", I answered slowly.

"How did you know that, Professor?" Harry asked as McGonagall ran another finger against our glued-together skin.

"Out of the two of them", she began to explain. "George is more proficient at transfiguration. Fred tends to rush his spells". And that was… an interesting observation I was going to save for later. While I never had any trouble of telling Fred and George apart (Lee didn't either now that I think about it), many people didn't see any differences between the two. Fred and George accepted it with good humor, but I knew that it grated on them from time to time. The fact that McGonagall could recognize one over the other through their spell work would thrill them. "And this is an impressive display of transfiguration", McGonagall continued as she gestured to our arms. "I could have been persuaded to give extra credit or house points for this if they hadn't used it on other students".

The classroom was increasing in volume as more and more chattering students entered and found their seats. I would definitely be late to potions at this rate. "So…" I started out slowly. "Is there a counterspell?"

McGonagall locked eyes with me and gave me a small closed-lipped smile. "No, Miss Weasley. Unfortunately, this specific variation of a sticking spell does not have a counter". My shoulders dropped. Damn it, Fred, and George. I bet they knew that. "But it is not a permanent spell. The magic holding you and Mr. Potter together should wear off by the end of the day". That was something at least. But it didn't tell us how we are supposed to survive until then. "Mr. Potter and yourself will have to decide whose classes you would like to attend. Naturally, I'm assuming you will both be attending transfiguration with the second-years this morning".

I slumped my shoulders in defeat as Harry adjusted his glasses. "Yes, Professor", he answered when I hadn't offered any response. Harry starts to move away from McGonagall; probably aware that the longer we stood talking to her and preventing the start of class the more attention we were drawing to ourselves.

But I wasn't quite done. With Harry coming up only slightly taller than my shoulder, I had no probably staying in place when he tried to move. "Professor", I whispered; not needing anyone in this classroom besides Harry to overhear me. I took a small step closer to our head of house just in case. "What should we do when one of us inevitably has to use the bathroom?"

I could feel Harry tensing next to me as he turned scarlet. It was unclear if he was embarrassed because I had mentioned it to McGonagall or because he hadn't thought of that potential issue until I had said it. McGonagall briefly looked away from us; her lips pressed together to smother a smile. But the wrinkling crows' feet at the corner of her eyes gave her away. "I'm afraid you two will become very well acquainted today", was McGonagall's answer as soon as her composure was solidified. The color drained from my face. I doubt Fred and George had thought about bathrooms, embarrassment, and emotionally scarring Harry for life when they decided to glue us together. But there were going to get an earful about It once this day was over. Reading my expression, McGonagall added, "If it would help, I believe I'd be willing to look the other way if something mischievous and rule-breaking were to happen to Fred and George. As long as no one is physically hurt".

I sighed in defeat. It was a booby prize, but I realized that it was the best McGonagall could do. "Thanks, Professor", I said forlornly as I turned away and gestured with my free hand (you know, the one not glued to a second-year) for Harry to start walking. At this point, we had delayed McGonagall from starting the lesson and I knew I wouldn't be making it to potions today. The other second-years in the classroom had deceased in their chatter and were now whispering amongst themselves. It wasn't hard to guess what they were discussing.

However, McGonagall wasn't quite done. "One more moment, Weasley, Potter". She called us back. Her voice an octave more serious. With Harry taking long steps and me taking small ones, we pivoted around like we were an equine drill team. But McGonagall wouldn't say anything more until we stepped closer to her desk. Her eyes were hard and frosted with concern. "Mr. Potter, what I am about to ask Miss Weasley is a matter of delinquency. I would prefer to wait until the two of you weren't so… attached, but it is also a matter of urgency. I trust that you will respect Miss Weasley's privacy".

It wasn't a question, but Harry treated it like was. "Yes, Professor", he agreed; his face still flushed.

McGonagall lowered her chin once in a deep nod. She leaned ever-so-slightly over her desk and made sure her voice wouldn't carry to the other students. "Professor Snape asked for a meeting with myself and Professor Dumbledore last night."

And I immediately knew what this was about. My shoulders tensed and I balled my free hand into a fist; digging my fingernails into the heel of my palm to prevent myself from reacting too overtly. "Professor-" I tried to break in.

McGonagall held up one hand to silence me as she kept going. "Professor Snape reported that when he came back to his classroom last night, he found Professor Lockhart alone with you in a… well, in a rather inappropriate manner".

I looked away from McGonagall, casting my eyes to stare at the stone floor. It hadn't occurred to me that Snape would do something with what he had seen. Not sure why. Snape wasn't a very good teacher. I mean, it was clear that he didn't want to be one. But despite that, Snape took his responsibilities seriously. He walked in on something that was possibly nefarious and reported it. When I didn't offer any sort of confirmation, McGonagall added, "Of course, this conversation is more suited for closed doors and we will be revisiting this matter once yourself and Potter are able to separate. But it is vital that I know the state of your current wellbeing".

Harry inched closer to me so that some of his weight was leaning into my side. For moral support, I suppose. But I barely felt it. Of course, Snape would have done something. Told someone. Why hadn't I thought of that before? I had nothing prepared. When I didn't open my mouth or look away from the stone floor, McGonagall straight out asked, "Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?" I shook my head. "Would you like to talk with a healer at St. Mungos?" My stomach churned uneasily. She was taking this so seriously…. I shook my head again, this time a bit slower. "Perhaps, you would like a visit with your mother."

"No!" I said before I could restrain myself. My head snapped up and my wide eyes found McGonagall's. I was holding my eyes so wide that my eyelids were straining and it felt like my eyeballs would pop out of my skull if someone were to smack me on the back of my head. McGonagall pressed her lips together, but not out of ire. Lowering my voice into a whisper, I said, "Please don't tell my mum". Because if Mum was told about what happened. She wouldn't get the truth. She'd get the version Snape saw. The one that only had me alone in a classroom with a male teacher that had no business being there. She'd hear about how I had been crying with Lockhart standing way too close. Mum wouldn't know about Lockhart being possessed by a psychotic teenager from the 1940s. Or Horcruxes. Or why Riddle had mistaken me as one. Which meant that she'd charge into Hogwarts; wand blazing with the sole purpose of ripping Lockhart to shreds. Lockhart, who was currently more Tom Riddle than he was himself. I didn't… I didn't want Mum coming near him.

McGonagall read my terrified plea as something else. The muscles around her eyes softened. "Alright, Weasley. There's no need to talk of this until you're ready. I will be checking in with you. But you can also talk to me whenever you want".

As if I was walking away from an edge, I released some tension I wasn't aware I was holding in my shoulders. "Thank you, professor". And then in a clumsy attempt to make her feel a bit better, I added. "I told Fred and George. That's why they did this". I raised my arm that was stuck to Harry's; Harry going along with the movement. The second-year boy was too busy studying my expression to really mind. "I think this is their way of helping".

"I know, Miss Weasley", McGonagall assured me. "That is the only reason why I will not be giving them a week's worth of detentions".

* * *

McGonagall's class was terribly boring. I mean, the second-years were working on material that I had already covered when I was in their year. Even if I kind of enjoyed watching Ron transfigure his beetle into a button that still had legs. The second-years had herbology for their second class of the day. Since I didn't want to try and work as a teacher's aid while glued to a second-year, I made the executive decision that Harry and I would join Hermione and Ron in the greenhouses. Where I was bored all over again. At least, Sprout didn't make me participate. By now, the other second-years had caught on to the reason why a fourth-year was in their classes. Neville Longbottom seemed particularly empathetic to my plight. While Malfoy was heavily amused. For me, the third class of the day was a history of magic, while the golden trio had Defense. There was no discussion between Harry and me about what class we would be attending. Waving goodbye to Ron and Hermione, Harry led the way to the History of Magic classroom.

"We have potions next class", Harry said as we slid into my and Adrian's usual seats. If we squeezed together, I'm sure there will be enough room for Adrian. "So, can we go to your next class?" I wasn't surprised by the question. Honestly, I didn't really want to face Snape. Partly because I didn't want to hear what he would have to say and Harry's and my… predicament. But also, because I didn't want to see him after what happened last night. Things weren't as bad as Snape seemed to believe. But still… I didn't want to have to pretend as if something had happened.

Going to the fourth-year Gryffindor's charms class was a given. But I didn't answer Harry. Too distracted by my peers filing in. I'm not sure how we beat them to Binns' class, but somehow Harry and I had managed it. I saw Fred and George first. They were walking with Lee, Angelina, and Alicia; smiling and laughing. But even from a distance, I could tell that it was a façade. When they looked over in my direction, I scowled and they grinned. It was tempting to use the sticking spell they used on Harry and I on them. But I wasn't sure it would be revengeful enough. Half the time, they acted like they were tied together. I doubt making it so they physically were would inconvenience them at all.

Right behind my fellow Gryffindors was Adrian. He marched in like a colonel off to war; the echoing slaps of the soles of his leather shoes hitting the stone floor serving as a warning to everyone not to get in his way. It was a matter of seconds. Probably even less than that. When Adrian spotted me. "He looks mad", Harry commented as Adrian picked up speed; heading straight for us.

"Yeah", I agreed; watching my boyfriend's approach. Just what did Fred and George tell him? "I apologize for what you're about to hear. Please, keep it to yourself".

Harry didn't get the chance to either agree or disagree. Adrian was upon us before Harry could verbalize a response. Taking the space on my left side; I was effectively sandwiched between Harry and Adrian. Adrian's schoolbag dropped with a careless thump onto the floor next to him; drastically unlike Adrian's usual pose. Twisting in his seat, Adrian reached out and snagged my left arm into his gasp. I shivered at the contact with his cold skin. "Adrian?" I asked.

He acted like he hadn't heard me. Holding my arm up he rolled up my sleeve and started eyeing my skin like it was a critical piece of evidence in a murder investigation. Even though his grip was unwavering, Adrian gently turned my arm so he could study it from every possible angle. "Adrian?" I tried again.

Still, Adrian didn't reward me with a response. And he's the one that's always accusing me of being weird. "What is he doing?" Harry whispered from my right.

I shrugged. Because the hell if I knew. But apparently, Harry's words reached the older boy when mine did not. "What I'm doing is making sure that Holly hasn't been injured after her brothers came up to me before potions to tell me about an event that happened last night between her and.. and…"

"Lockhart?" Harry supplied.

"A pathetic excuse of a wizard", Adrian finished in a growl.

I blinked a couple of times; wanting to look away from Adrian to glare at Fred and George. Whatever story of events they had told my boyfriend, they clearly hadn't done anything to de-escalate him. But that was impossible. There was no way I could look away when Adrian's eyes were making me think of tornados. "You could just ask me if I was hurt", I said in a flat voice. Adrian snorted in a coarse manner as if suggesting that I wouldn't have told him anything if he had asked. I frowned. Damn it, Fred and George. Although, this time the entire fault wasn't all on them. "Are you satisfied?" I asked Adrian with the same flat voice.

Adrian narrowed his eyes at me. The grip he had on my wrist tightened. "No, I am not. What I want is to get you to a private room where I can inspect every inch of you to determine for myself if you're as unharmed as you want to claim".

Blood rushed to my cheeks and I refused to look over my shoulder at Harry. Or at anyone else in the classroom for that matter. Please, if there's a Merlin in the afterlife, don't let other people overhear that. Because, just like that, our relationship that hadn't progressed past innocent kissing sounded like it was a lot more… risqué. "Adrian", I mumbled; leaning in slightly. "There are children present".

Adrian rolled his eyes. "There are always children present". And he was right. As reincarnated souls attending school, it sometimes felt like we were older than all our peers. Except in this situation, I was only referring to Harry…

"I'm fine", I insisted with a little more force behind my tone. "Snape came back before anything could happen and he has told McGonagall and Dumbledore about it". Adrian was fell silent, and Binns started lecturing. Not that we were going to pay attention. I doubt anyone would be. When Adrian remained silent, I added, "And Fred and George glued me to Harry together so it will be impossible for Lockhart to catch me by myself".

It was another moment before Adrian sighed and dropped my wrist. "So, they told me". He said as he looked away. I wanted to rub the skin around my wrist. But considering that I only had the use of one hand, there was nothing I could do. Adrian exhaled loudly through his nose; nostrils flaring like a bull. I took a quick glance at Harry. All the second-year did was adjust his glasses and shrug; teen drama still being a relatively new concept to him. This was probably the most interesting history of magic class he's ever attended. "Flint's family runs the most successful law firm in Wizarding Britain", Adrian stated. To me, it sounded random and I shook my head a little. Trying to figure out why Adrian was talking about Flint. "Lord Flint himself has never lost a case". And then I picked up on where Adrian was going with this. I shook my head faster. "He's expensive but he could get Lockhart thrown out of Hogwarts and incarcerated faster than anyone else".

"Adrian, no", I tried to put my foot down. Tried being the keyword.

"Maybe Flint would talk his father into giving us a discount if I explained-"

There was no way I was going to listen to any more of this. With my left hand, I grabbed Adrian's right hand. "Adrian", I said. Maybe it was the desperation in my voice. But whatever it was I managed to gain his attention. Stormy grey eyes focused on me. "Don't do that. I don't what Flint, let alone his father, knowing about my business". Adrian opened his mouth like he was about to argue. Seeing this, I was quick to talk over him. "I'm fine. And if you promise not to tell Flint or hire any lawyers, I'll let you…" Glancing nervously around the classroom, I lowered my voice for only Adrian to hear. "Inspect me like you want to as soon as I don't have a twelve-year-old attached to me".

Adrian got some color in his face. Like a man trying to distract himself, he faced forward with his cheeks puffed out. "I'm going to kill him", Adrian grumbled. I didn't need to guess who he was referring to.

"No, you won't", I said as I copied Adrian's posture. Binns was still talking; completely unaware that there was an extra student in today's lesson or that one of his students was plotting homicide. "Because if you did, you'd be the one getting locked up in Azkaban and I'd be forced to live without you. Which are two things neither of us wants".

Adrian didn't reply. I suspect because he didn't want to give me the win by agreeing, but didn't want to hurt me by disagreeing.

"Um…" Harry whispered from his spot on my right. But both Adrian and I heard him. "So, you two really love each other? Ron thought-" Harry cut himself off as if he remembered he wasn't supposed to tell me what my little brother thought. Pity, I would have liked to know.

I wasn't prepared to answer Harry. Adrian, on the other hand, had no problem. "Unfortunately," came his answer.

My line of vision swung over to the brooding Slytherin; my heart fluttering. Damn it all! Why can't we have one date-relationship milestone happen in a normal way?


	68. The Dark Side of Adrian

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Dark Side of Adrian

Although I wasn't convinced, Fred and George insisted that they had a reason for chaining me to Harry. "We had to keep the both of you out of the way", George said from where he was sitting on the floor in front of his bed.

"Why?" I asked as I did an open arm shrug. I was feeling a bit exacerbated. It's unclear if the cause is because I'm not used to being kept out of the loop or because I had just spent an excessive amount of time in the bathroom. That being the first thing I did once the magic holding Harry and me together wore off. The second thing I did was to hunt down Fred and George.

Sitting across from George with the Marauders' map spread out between them, Fred looked at me. "We get a lot more done when we're not worried about you spontaneously dying. It's the same for Ron and Hermione with Harry".

I frowned. So, ignoring the first implication of what Fred said. "Ron and Hermione are involved?"

Fred nodded as George answered, "They're going to be our lookouts".

Moving over to George's bed, I flopped down on the mattress stomach first. I was tired enough that I had to mull over what they were saying before it would make sense. Even though what my brothers were saying was relatively simple. "You came up with a plan". It was a statement but came out sounding like a question.

"We did", Fred answered in the affirmative.

I waited for him to continue. When he nor George did, I picked up my head to stare at him. "So, what is it?" Why were they keeping me in suspense? Building a sense of drama wasn't something Fred and George normally subscribed to. They prefer a quick punchline.

George fixed me with his version of a stubborn look. One that made his pupils appear smaller than they actually were. "It's better if you don't know". Which is a sentence that I always enjoy hearing.

Pinched the bridge of my nose, I said, "I think I'm in a little too deep for you two to exclude me". And that's without mentioning that we wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for me. Guilt gnawed at my conscious. Whatever plan Fred and George had concocted, I should be standing the front line to take on the mess of it as the responsible party.

Fred repeated George but added a little more. "It's better if you don't know because you're going to play decoy".

"The less you know about what Fred and I will be doing the better", George picked up where Fred left off. "Just in case you're not a good decoy".

Not a good decoy? Just George saying that was making me nervous. "That way, if Lockhart figures out that you're a fake he won't be able to get any information out of you because you genuinely won't know".

My spine stiffened and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. "You want me to distract Lockhart". Again, it wasn't a question. But it sounded like one.

Fred turned his whole body towards me. He waited until we had made eye contact. And once I was focused on him, he said, "I know you're scared, Holls. George and I don't want you to do this either. But Lockhart mistaking you as one of You-Know-Who's Horcruxes is something we need to use. We're not going to get an opportunity like this again".

George shifted where he was sitting so he was facing me too. "And we have to act fast, because who knows how long it will take for Lockhart to figure out that he got it wrong".

Looking away from Fred and George to create some sort of privacy, I tried to collect my thoughts. I comprehended what they were saying and knew they were right. Still, though. To have to be alone with Lockhart/ Riddle again… I shuddered as I suffered through visions of that night in Snape's classroom and of that night with Jessie's murderer. It wasn't their intention. But it felt like Fred and George were asking me to face my demons before I was ready to do so. Still, what was worse? Avoiding Lockhart for as long as possible and wait to be cornered again, or facing him and hopefully get rid of him? After a short moment, I found my Gryffindor nerve and looked at Fred and George once more. "How do you want me to distract him?"

* * *

Turning to an old bad habit of internalizing all my feelings, I worked to keep my face blank as I lead Lockhart/ Riddle to the seventh-floor corridor. If I were three years older, I'd demand a drink after this night. But sadly, I know I'm not lucky enough to get away with underage drinking. Once we were close to the tapestry of the trolls learning how to dance ballet, I turned to face Lockhart/ Riddle. "We have a deal, right?" I sought confirmation. "I show you where the third Horcrux is and cooperate, and you'll leave my family alone?"

Riddle's sinister gaze felt out of place in Lockhart's body. He rolled his eyes at me with an impatient air. "Yes, my dear. You behave like a good little Horcrux and I will spare your blood traitor family". Lockhart/ Riddle waved a hand at me to hurry up.

With stiff limbs, I faced forward towards a seemingly normal wall. Who would have guessed that You-Know-Who was snarky as a teenager? With a breath that was big enough to make my shoulders hunch up to my ears on the inhale, I started pacing in front of the wall. I need to find Ravenclaw's diadem, but not easily, I thought. I turned on my heel and continued thinking. I need to find Ravenclaw's diadem, but not easily.

"What are you doing?" Riddle snarled accusingly. Because how dare I have the gall to pace in front of a wall and waste his time. Then, I did something I never thought I would do; I ignored a psychopath.

Pacing in front of the wall for the third time, I repeated the same thought. I need to find Ravenclaw's diadem, but not easily. With that little ritual done, I paused in front of the wall and stared at it. Merlin, please. Let me have thought the right thought. Please let the room of requirement sense that I have an actual need. I could feel Riddle's borrowed eyes on me as seconds that felt like minutes ticked by consisting of me just staring at the wall. What would happen if I couldn't get us into the room of requirement? What was I supposed to do with Riddle then? I didn't know exactly what Fred and George were doing, but I knew they'd need more time. Maybe I could convince Riddle that visiting the shrieking shack was worth his while. Although, it had nothing to do with Horcruxes, and I wasn't too keen on leaving the castle Lockhart/ Riddle. Just when I started to think that it wasn't going to work, I nervously flicked my eyes in the possessed Lockhart's direction. He was standing with his arms crossed and an irritable expression was pressed into his flawless skin. But when I looked back at the wall a door made of a dark oak wavered into existence. Oh, thank Merlin.

Stepping forward I grabbed onto the handle and swung it open. Moving aside, I held it open for Riddle to enter first. Unfolding his arms, Lockhart/ Riddle let them hang stiffly at his sides as he stepped forward. "The Room of Requirement," he said as he surveyed the doorway as if he expected it to chomp down on him as soon as he was under it.

"Yes", I answered honestly, even though I wasn't sure if he meant his statement as a question. The more truthful I am with Riddle the easier it will be to get away with lying to him when I absolutely have to. Or, so I hope. "I don't know how many people know about it. It's mentioned in _Hogwarts, A History_. But it only appears when someone needs it".

Lockhart/ Riddle walked through the doorway. Which allowed me to take a brief second to muster up what I could of my finite amount of bravery before I followed him; closing the door behind me. Riddle stood in front of me as he took in the room of hidden things. And it was definitely a sight to behold. Stacks upon stacks of miscellaneous crates and trunks loomed over us. From where I was standing, I could spy a harp, more chandeliers than one person would ever need, and what looked suspiciously like a human skeleton. Possibly, not a real one.

"Of course, I know what the room or requirement is", Riddle snapped. "I've been searching for it since my second-year".

"That must mean the original you found it after he made you", I said. Maybe if I stroked Riddle's ego, I could turn his ire away from me. "I only know how to get in this room because of our creator's memories". It was a struggle to refer to You-Know-Who as 'our creator' with a straight face. It left a sour taste in my mouth; like spoiled dairy.

Riddle/ Lockhart hmmed in an unimpressed manner, but I read it as him being appeased. "Ravenclaw's diadem", Riddle said as he looked over his shoulder at me. "Where did I hide it? I feel something in this room. But I cannot decipher if it is you or the diadem."

I shrugged and prayed I wouldn't be punished for it. "I don't know. I only get flashes of your memory. I only know that you hide it in this room".

Clicking his tongue like was an irritable fly he couldn't get rid of, Riddle pulled out Lockhart's wand. "Accio diadem", he said. But nothing happened as evident by the fact that nothing came whizzing at our heads. Lowering Lockhart's wand, Riddle sighed. "Of course. I wouldn't be so careless as to make a Horcrux summonable. I must have charmed it", he muttered to himself. Pocketing the wand, Riddle ordered, "start looking".

Since this was exactly what I wanted, I gave Riddle/ Lockhart a single solemn nod before tensely walking past him to start searching on the right side of the room. Fred and George hadn't given me a way to know once they had finished with whatever they were doing. So, quitting time was left entirely to Riddle's discretion. Either we found the diadem or we didn't and had to turn in for the night. I would prefer for the latter to happen because that didn't involve handing over one Horcrux to another. But when Fred and George told me that we were going to use the diadem to our advantage, they said not to worry if Riddle/ Lockhart got his hands on it. So, in blind faith, I was trusting that Fred and George had contingency plans.

Pretending to search, I studied a stack of books that had embossed titles on their spines. They were all in languages that I didn't understand. Curious. But I moved on to a trunk that was to the left of the stack of books. Being raised by Arthur Weasley and all his misuse of muggle artifacts stories, I knew the possible dangers of seemingly harmless objects. Keeping an ear out for what Riddle/ Lockhart was up to, I knelt before opening the lid of the trunk. Inside was a bunch of clothes. Did someone lose their entire trunk? But as I dug through the clothing, I discovered that to not be the case. The clothes were all random. Some of them were robes that only an old person would wear. Some looked relatively new. When others had holes and tears in them. Not a single sock in the trunk had a match. Was this really the room of hidden things? Or the room of the lost things? Closing the lid, I stood and moved on.

This continued for a long while. Riddle/Lockhart and I remained on opposites sides of the room. Occasionally, he would yell. "Have you found it?"

And I'd work up the courage to yell back, "Not yet!" Of course, if I so much caught a gleam of silver, I was turning the other way. There was no benefit to me finding the diadem. At least, not as long as Riddle/ Lockhart was nearby. I'm not sure how much time was spent searching. I don't own a watch. But when I started to feel tired and my fear about being in the Room of Requirement with possessed Lockhart dulled, I knew at least an hour had to have passed. Studying a cabinet that I thought could possibly be the vanishing cabinet from the _Half-Blood Prince_ , I didn't notice Riddle/Lockhart coming up behind me. If I set this cabinet on fire, could I prevent Bill from being mauled by a werewolf?

A hand wrapped around my upper bicep. Nearly jumping out of my skin, I barely comprehend what Riddle said. "We're leaving".

"Why?" I asked as Riddle/ Lockhart started pulling me towards the exit; stumbling over my feet in the process. It wasn't like he had given me any time to follow willingly. "Did you find it?"

The answer Riddle gave me wasn't a yes or no. In a low tone, he said, "someone is in my rooms".

* * *

My heart was racing as I found myself in a part of the castle that I normally don't visit. There weren't any classrooms in this area so there was never much of a point to come here. "Should I be here?" I asked Riddle/ Lockhart as he glared at a portrait of some witch from the seventh century. It was a challenge to keep my voice even and to fight the urge to shiver at the grip he had on my arm. "Snape was suspicious when he saw you in his classroom with me. He told McGonagall. It's going to look very bad if someone sees us together again". This warning was my attempt to get him to release me so I could scuttle back to the safety of Gryffindor tower. I was sure it was Fred and George that had tripped whatever alarm Riddle had placed on Lockhart's rooms. But I wasn't too worried about them getting caught. They had the map, for one thing. And they had said Ron and Hermione would be surviving as look-outs. I hadn't seen any sign of either of the two second-years when Riddle/ Lockhart had dragged me here. But if I couldn't see them that meant that Riddle probably couldn't either. And that was a good thing.

Riddle ignored me as he murmured to the portrait, "magical me". I had a moment of mild amusement. Of course, that would be Lockhart's password to his private quarters. But I was reminded of the precarious position I was in when the portrait swung open and I was pulled inside.

The furniture in Lockhart's rooms wasn't overly opulent. Which is probably the nicest comment I had said about Lockhart. There was an average looking coffee table and leather sofa in his sitting area. A small table was set up on the other side of the room facing a fireplace. In between the sofa and table was a door; leading to his bedroom, I'm assuming. What made the space's resident unquestionable Lockhart was the number of framed magazine covers and newspaper articles about himself hanging from the walls. Riddle/ Lockhart released my arm as soon as the portrait door swung shut behind us. Paying me no mind, Riddle headed straight for the sofa. Pushing one side of the sofa away from where it was next to a wall, Riddle moved tersely. Biting my lip, I started glancing back and forth from the madman to the only exit. Slowly I started inching towards it. I think we're approaching the expiration date on Fred and George's plan. Meaning, it's time to disappear. But before I could move close enough to the portrait door to make a break for it, Riddle/ Lockhart whirled around. "It's gone!" He announced; absolutely enraged.

I froze in place. "What's gone?" I asked, even though I had an idea. But if there's one thing I'm good at in this life, it's playing dumb.

Using a little too much force Riddle ran a hand through Lockhart's hair. "My diary. The object that contains my essence. The thing that gives me the power to control this sorry excuse of a wizard!" Riddle/ Lockhart locked eyes with me; treating me to an expression of unadulterated rage. A look that spoke of suffering and death. Think of a 'here's Johnny' look but with a closed mouth and you'd know what I was looking at right now.

My mouth hung open. "um…" I started to say. This was good right? I mean, I couldn't say that it was good. But if the diary wasn't here, then Fred and George must have been successful. "Alright". The words were coming out slowly as I scrambled to find them. "but you still have control over Lockhart's body. So, the diary must be okay". I reasoned.

Riddle stalked closer to me and I felt my hands start to shake as I was forced to recall that one detention with Snape. "Whoever took it would have scorched the flesh on their hands". I wasn't sure if Riddle was talking to me or if he had heard what I had said.

"Burned their hands?" I asked as worry started bubbling inside of me. Were Fred and George alright? "How?"

"Because, you stupid girl, I cursed the diary. Only a buffoon would leave an important object like that without any protection". Riddle clicked Lockhart's tongue as he continued to stare at me. I didn't know what he was seeing. But I think his thoughts were taking up more focus than his vision. "Only this body can touch it without consequence".

And now I really wanted to get back to Gryffindor Tower. "I'll help you look for it", I said quickly; turning to slip out of the portrait door.

But, of course, it couldn't be that easy. Once more, Riddle snaked Lockhart's hand around my upper arm and I was drawn back in. "I'd hate if you had anything to do with this, my dear", Riddle said in a dangerously low voice. He moved closer.

Oh, hell. I thought as blood pulsed through my veins and my eyes became the size of saucers. What had I done to raise his suspicions? "Why would you think that? I've been with you this whole time?"

Riddle hummed as Lockhart grabbed my other arm with his hand that was holding his wand; making it rather difficult for me to get to my own wand. In hindsight, I should've had my wand in hand the moment Riddle dragged me from the Room of Requirement. "That is true", Riddle admitted. I winced at the contact as the taste of vile started to build up in my mouth. Something told me that Fred and George never intended for me to be with Riddle/ Lockhart when he discovered the diary missing. If they were watching the map, they would know where I was. There was a limited amount of hope. However, this was still a position I was near petrified for being in. It was almost as if Lockhart was my own personal basilisk. "But I can't help but note that you were rather concerned about whoever it was that broke into my private rooms".

"Um…" Riddle pushed as I tried to form words so that my back and head were pressed against the wall. The back of my head thumped loudly against the stone as black spots danced in my vision. But I tried not to let on that it hurt. "I am worried. I'm worried for…. you". I forced out. "We do share pieces of a soul". My explanation sounded weak even to my ears.

The grip Riddle/ Lockhart had on my arms tightened to the point that my fingers started to tingle due to the lack of circulation. "It is strange as to why you suddenly sought me out to offer your help". Riddle pressed Lockhart's face close to mine. So close, that I wished the wall would give way so I could move further back. "After trying to avoid me for so long".

My lungs strained against my chest as I struggled to draw in air. "I-I wanted to protect my family". I stuttered; eyes watering.

"Yes", Riddle purred darkly next to my ear. Although the sound didn't match the sensation, I shivered violently. Like someone had just scraped their fingernails down a blackboard. "Your family. Quite a large one at that. Perhaps it was one of your siblings that were in my rooms tonight".

It felt like my heart had stopped beating as soon as Riddle made that leap in logic. "No". I tried to interject. Instinct flooded my body and seeing no way to keep up this quickly deteriorating ruse, I raise a knee; jamming it into the soft spot between Riddle/ Lockhart's leg. Riddle hunched over; one hand leaving my arm to go tend to that special spot. I turned to tear my other arm from him and run for it. It was my first time as Holly to make such an attack. And I must have not done it hard enough, or maybe I missed because I didn't gain a lot of ground. With power that outmatched the strength of my fourteen-year-old self, Riddle/Lockhart yanked me back into my original position against the wall.

Riddle took a few deep breathes to compose himself as he held me in place. "I wonder which one was it", Riddle continued as if I hadn't just assaulted him. "It couldn't have been the youngest two. Your sister is too meek to truly do anything daring". Which shows how little Riddle has paid attention to Ginny. Because I would never use Ginny and meek in the same sentence. "Not your youngest brother either. That boy wouldn't know the back end of a hippogriff to its front, let alone how to get through the portrait guarding my rooms. Perhaps, it was the eldest. The prefect. He would know how to contact teachers after hours in case of an emergency." Riddle paused, pulling back slightly to study my face. Whatever he saw there must have told him enough because the next thing he said was;

"No. I don't think it was just one of your siblings who would break into my rooms. It would be the identical brothers. The ones who have been guarding your every step until tonight. They are the cleverest out of your clan of blood traitors. Why I bet-"

I never got to hear what Riddle bet. "Crucio!" A new voice announced his presence with a furious snarl. In not even a second, Riddle/Lockhart dropped to the ground. His hold on my arms slackened and I was able to break free. Despite no longer being held in place I remained rooted against the wall as I watched Riddle/ Lockhart start to twitch on the floor like how I imagine a fit to look like. A tortuous yowl left his lips.

Stepping away from the portrait door and into my view was Adrian. He had his wand pointed at Lockhart and he wasn't blinking. Adrian's eyes brows were so slanted that every wrinkle on his brow was clearly defined. The corner of his lips was turned downward in such a way that it looked like they had been drawn that way. And his eyes; there was such unrestrained aggression in them that they appeared more black than grey.

Sweat started to gleam on Lockhart's skin as he contorted and withered on the floor. More sounds of distress left his mouth. It reminded me of those Halloween movies that had exorcism scenes. If only that were the case. Adrian gave no sign that he was close to easing off. And… I wasn't sure I wanted him to… "You think you would be allowed to get away with taking what doesn't belong to you?" Adrian growled. "To lay your filthy hands on a girl you have no business touching? That just because you're a teacher and celebrity no one would stand up to you if forced a student to enter your quarters?"

Adrian must have added a surge of magic as he spoke because Lockhart's limbs started to thrash out; banging against any surface they encountered. "Adrian?" I asked with a hoarse sounding squeak. Just the sight of him, although slightly horrifying, was enough to allow me to draw breath again. And with lungfuls of air, came a free fall of tears.

But Adrian had more to say. "You have no idea who you have crossed". Lockhart continued to flop around like a fish out of water. It was doubtful he could understand a single word Adrian said in this state. "You have no clue about what I am going to do to you. What I'm capable of doing".

"Adrian!" I sobbed. This time louder.

Adrian didn't break eye contact with his target. He couldn't without breaking the spell. But his voice adopted a softer edge as he directed his next words at me. "Holly, come away from there. Wait outside. I'll be along shortly".

I heeded his first request by tip-toeing around Lockhart/ Riddle's agonized form. Almost colliding into Adrian's side when I was in the clear. I chose to ignore my boyfriend's second request. "Adrian", I gasp as I latched on to the sleeve of his arm that wasn't holding his wand. "You're using an unforgivable. Please, stop!"

"He deserves it!" Adrian barked. However, he didn't pull away from me and took comfort in that fact.

"You think I care about that? It's an unforgivable. It's illegal! If someone sees you could get in trouble", I tried to reason. Lockhart continued to wither; scratching at his flesh hard enough to draw blood. I needed to speak fast. "I don't know what the punishment is for a minor using an unforgiveable but whatever it is, I don't want you to experience it".

"Holly, wait outside", Adrian repeated; his voice was rough and it made me fear for what he would do if I did listen to him.

"What if they make you serve time? You wouldn't be in school if you had to do that. We..we couldn't sit next to each other during classes or share meals. Who would I do my potions' homework with?". Everything I could think of came sprouting out of my mouth. "Please, Adrian! I don't want to experience school without you", I pleaded over my crying.

With a heavy sigh, almost as if it pained him to do so, Adrian lowered his wand. Lockhart/ Riddle stilled on the floor; panting and tremoring through the after-effects. With the turn of his head, I became to focus of Adrian's attention. "He deserves to die", Adrian stated.

I take a breath and hold it in, in an attempt to stop crying. "Maybe", I admitted quietly as I looked away from Adrian and towards the man who lay on the floor. I couldn't quite find the words I needed to express what I wanted to. Maybe I would after I no longer felt like cornered prey. Then I could tell Adrian that no matter how… evil Lockhart/ Riddle was, it wasn't worth killing him if it was our souls that would suffer for it.

Sighing again, this time like a man who knew he wouldn't win an argument against a woman; Adrian pointed his wand at Lockhart once more. "Incarcerous", he said, conjuring thick ropes that wrapped around Lockhart and bound his limbs together. "Silencio", a second spell followed Adrian's first. A moment of silence passed between us as we stared at the fallen teacher. Lockhart/ Riddle had regained some of his wits; as evident by the murderous glares he was sending in our direction. When that moment passed, Adrian said, "We can wait here. I sent Potter to get a teacher".

My head snapped in Adrian's direction. "Harry?" I asked. How would Harry be involved in this situation?


	69. The Webs We Weave

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

The Webs We Weave

It wasn't a long wait. But it was certainly an uncomfortable one. Lockhart glared at us from his position on the floor being the main reason for the tension hanging in the air. With his wand still pointed at the tied-up teacher, Adrian shifted his weight between his feet. His enraged expression hadn't changed. Despite the current atmosphere. Meanwhile, I was still working on catching my breath. You'd think that all the times I've spent panicking, I'd be in better shape.

Adrian cleared his throat; his eyes flickering to me. "Do you want to sit down?" He asked in reference to the leather sofa.

I eyed it with disdain. Like the sofa was covered in unidentifiable stains and infested with creepy crawls that make you itch like you had chickenpox. Turning to Adrian with a repelled expression, I said; "We're not sitting down on that".

Adrian wrinkled his forehead as if to suggest he couldn't understand why I was so opposed. "You're pale and shaking. You look like you really need to sit down".

I was pale? The shaking I understood. But I didn't feel faint or cold or anything else that would cause a change in complexion. "We don't know where that sofa has been", I argued.

Adrian didn't see my point. "It's just a sofa".

"Nor do we know what he's been doing on it", I continued; making a gesture in Lockhart's direction. "I refuse to touch anything in this room". With the diary assumingly retrieved, there was nothing here worth touching.

Rolling his eyes, Adrian gave me the impression that he found my no-touching resolve to be meaningless. "Holly, go wait outside", he said. As if telling me that for the third time was actually going to make me listen.

"I'm not waiting outside", I refused with a shake of my head.

Adrian let out an exasperated noise. "I can handle this on my own. You're clearly uncomfortable. So, just wait for me outside".

"I'm not leaving you alone with this loon". Lockhart's eyes were bouncing back and forth from Adrian and me like a ping-pong ball. If it wasn't for the silencing spell he was currently under, I wonder what would say. Or if he would say anything at all.

Grinding his teeth together; Adrian forced out, "I won't do anything; just stand guard. I promise". It sounded like it hurt him to make that promise.

"No", I answered without pause. "I'm not leaving you". And then we were off. Bickering like a couple that nothing else to do in their free time.

When help finally arrived in the form of Harry, McGonagall, and Snape they walked in on Adrian angrily asking, "Why are you so bloody difficult?"

I raised an eyebrow; aware that our audience had grown, but I didn't care at the moment. "I'm difficult?" I asked rhetorically. "Mr. stiff-neck is calling me difficult".

Adrian opened his mouth, but McGonagall interjected before we could continue this lovefest. "What is going on here?"

Adrian and I killed a moment before answering McGonagall. It passed with us staring each other down. Merlin, help me. If we were just a few years older, we would have different means to work out our tension.

Squaring his shoulders Adrian turned his eyes to McGonagall; all the while with his wand trailed on Lockhart. "That needs to be taken to Azkaban". He gestured rudely to Lockhart's immobilized form. "Holly is a self-destructive idiot, and I need to reflect on my life choices".

Well… that was one way to bring everyone up to speed. I thought as I glared at my boyfriend. None of those life choices he wants to reflect on better include our relationship. McGonagall turned towards me as Snape and Harry stared at Adrian with different expressions of emotion. Snape's was more irate. While Harry's was more curious. But both were targeted at Adrian's strange and sudden need to share. "Potter said Professor Lockhart forced you into his rooms", McGonagall said.

I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat. Yeah, that had happened. But did I really want to admit to that? I'm not sure how I could answer the questions that followed. This wasn't a part of Fred and George's plan, after all. But how do I explain my presence here if I denied McGonagall's statement? "Um". My voice came out quiet; sounding meek compared to how I had been talking to Adrian just seconds ago. "Yes". It became hard to look McGonagall in the eyes. Were my shoes always this dark brown color? I thought they were more black than brown. "But I'm okay". I spoke quicker. "Adrian got here before anything could happen". Please let that be enough to put off any questions that I couldn't answer.

"How were you able to get into these rooms?" McGonagall asked. I assume it wasn't me she was speaking to.

"I got the password from Potter", Adrian answered. "He saw what Lockhart was doing and overheard the password. When he going for help, he ran into me and told me what he saw and heard. I told him to get a teacher before going ahead to help Holly". His answers were straightforward and concise; having no need to think before he spoke. "When I got here, he had Holly pinned to a wall. She was scared and it looked painful. I made him stop and I made sure he couldn't fight back". Whenever Adrian referred to Lockhart his tone adopted a nauseated quality.

More time passed in silence. But it was the short reprieve I needed to work up the courage to look away from my shoes. McGonagall wasn't looking at either of us anymore. Her gaze was focused on the detained man on the floor; lips pressed together so harshly that they lost all color. Harry stood next to her. He was looking at Lockhart too; except his expression contained a mixture of uneasy and pity. Because, like me, Harry knew that Lockhart wasn't entirely responsible for his actions. Not that there wasn't a fair amount of karma in this outcome. After all, even without Riddle, Lockhart is still a narcissist guilty of stealing the credit for others' adventures.

While Snape was staring at the framed articles hanging from Lockhart's walls with disdain. I wondered what that meant. Had he already make his decision about the man laying on the floor? What did he get out of glaring that Lockhart's wall décor?

"We'll need to get Professor Dumbledore and the aurors will have to be notified", McGonagall said; taking charge. Her line of vision swung to me. "They will ask for you to give a statement, Miss Weasley. I'm sorry. I know you weren't ready earlier. And this time, we will have to inform your parents".

Biting my lip, I nodded slowly. McGonagall was right. I wasn't ready to come up with a believable story that my parents and law enforcement would accept. But as soon as McGonagall and Snape had become involved, I figured that it was unavoidable.

Folding his arms, Snape spoke up. "I'll wait here if you would inform Professor Dumbledore". He spoke only to McGonagall.

McGonagall appeared to find that agreeable because she turned towards us students. "You three may wait in my office. We will join you shortly".

That sounded like a plan. Or at least the start of one. Harry turned around to obey McGonagall's order. And I was ready to follow, but a hand grabbing my wrist prevented me from doing so. "I'm taking Holly to the hospital wing". Adrian announced; only addressing Snape and McGonagall.

I blew hot air out of my mouth. Oh, good grief. "I don't need to go to the hospital wing", I said; pronouncing each word slowly and clearly.

Acting like he hadn't heard me, Adrian repeated himself. "I'm taking Holly to the hospital wing".

I looked towards McGonagall for help, but she was focused on the fourth-year Slytherin; calculating some invisible equation that she could see on his face. "Yes. Perhaps that would be wise. Thank you, Mr. Pucey".

And then the grip on my wrist that had stopped me from moving forward was leading me towards the door. Harry walked in front of us, leaving me to assume that he would be accompanying us to the hospital wing. I couldn't blame him. I wouldn't want to wait by myself in McGonagall's office after what had just occurred. But before Adrian and I could step out of Lockhart's rooms, Snape halted us by placing a heavy hand on Adrian's shoulder. Hunched over, the potions master murmured something in Adrian's ear. It was too low for me to catch, and all Adrian did was respond with a deep nod of agreement before continuing. Leaving me to wonder what that had been about.

* * *

We never made it to the hospital wing. About halfway there we got ambushed by Fred and George and herded into an empty classroom. Adrian huffed indignantly as he adjusted his robes after being manhandled. But Fred and George chose not to notice the heavily annoyed Slytherin. Or the awkwardly shy Harry standing in the corner. Instead, they were standing close to me with their shoulders pressed together. "Jolly Holly", Fred said in a scolding voice. "No were in the plan did it involve you going home with Lockhart". He was clutching his right hand in his left like it was painful to move.

"What plan?" Adrian asked, having overheard.

"What's wrong with your hand?" I asked my brother. Did he burn it? Like how Riddle/ Lockhart had said; about cursing the diary for anyone who touched it.

Neither Adrian nor I get an answer. "You're not a Ravenclaw. There was no need for you to take initiative", George exclaimed. "All you had to do was distract Lockhart and then run away".

"What plan?" Adrian asked again. His voice becoming a bit darker.

"It wasn't her fault", Harry spoke up. "Lockhart wouldn't let go of her. He grabbed her in the room of requirement and didn't let go until they were in his rooms".

I blinked multiple times. How did Harry know about the room of requirement? How did he know what Lockhart/ Riddle had done? Those questions combined with the ones I already had started to paint a picture. Harry had known the password the Lockhart's rooms. He had been the one to send Adrian to my aid. And he was the one who had gotten McGonagall and Snape…. "Were you there the whole time?" I asked Harry. But Fred and George were making it difficult to look away from them.

"What plan?" Adrian yelled; making his voice so loud that it drowned out everyone else.

Fred and George whirled around to glare at Adrian. "And what is he doing here?" Fred and George asked in sync; acting like Adrian wasn't in the room at all. So… it wasn't a part of their plan for Adrian to help me. It made sense. I couldn't envision Fred and George including Adrian. But it was another piece of information that was helping me fill in the blanks.

"I ran into him", Harry answered quickly. As if speedy answers would help defuse strain in the room. "Holly needed help, so I thought…" He trailed off; not needing to express that he had made the right call at that moment.

"And you just happened to be in the right place at the right time?" Fred asked Adrian; narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Adrian narrowed his right back with his hands rolled into fists. "Yes, I was". His response left no wiggle room for further questioning. "What plan?" He asked again.

Fred and George sighed. A look passed between them as they weighed their options. Impatient, Adrian turned towards me; his expectation clear on his face. But I just shrugged. It seemed like I was only informed about my part of the plan.

When Fred and George didn't offer anything, Harry stepped up to the plate. Did he see what we couldn't? Or was he just too young to understand the importance of secrets? "Lockhart got his hands on a diary filled with dark magic. It possessed him and he is the one that opened the chamber of secrets". The vein above Adrian's right eye started to twitch and the color drained from his face. "The triplets having been trying to get the diary and destroy it".

Raising a hand, Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Hopeless. Every single one of you. Hopeless", he muttered.

"The plan was for Holly to distract Lockhart so they could get the diary. My job was to make sure Lockhart didn't kill Holly", Harry finished. Well… that explained Harry's involvement. I wonder how long he had been following me. And I hadn't gotten any sense that I was being watched. He must have been using the invisibility cloak.

Without removing his hand or opening his eyes, Adrian continued. "And where is this diary?"

"You don't need to know that", said George.

Fred took a step towards Adrian; as if he was trying to get Adrian to move. "Thanks for helping out our sister. But we can take it from here".

George copied Fred. "So, you're free to go".

"Don't close the door too loudly on your way out", they said together.

But Adrian remained unmoved. "McGonagall and Snape are informing Professor Dumbledore and they will have to involve aurors. We're expected to be in the hospital wing and they will want to take our statements", Adrian said in reference to himself, Harry, and me. "And it's clear that you have no idea what you are dealing with". Adrian's words were harsh. Or maybe they sound harsh because of the truth they contained.

Fred snorted unattractively. "And you do?"

Adrian's confidence was absolute. "Yes".

* * *

Sitting on a bed in the hospital wing with my legs hanging off one side, I watched as Adrian cast the same spell over and over again. It was the disillusionment charm that the fourth-years had been working on in Flitwick's classes. Every flick of his wand resulted in a white light as a tin cup sitting on a bedside table flickered in and out of sight. "Why are you doing that?" I asked, but I didn't really care to know. Asking just brought me a distraction from everything that was playing out. Adrian knew about Horcruxes. Which, I already knew. But in that classroom with Fred, George, and Harry he had blurted it out. Which meant that Harry now knew about them too. And now we had more help than we wanted when it came to figuring out how to destroy the damn diary.

"They'll get around to questioning Lockhart eventually", Adrian answered without interrupting his casting. The _they_ he was referring to were the aurors that we knew had been summoned. "He'll tell them that I used an unforgivable on him". We weren't worried about being overheard. After Madam Pomfrey had done a quick scan to make sure I was telling the truth about my physical state, she had retreated to her office to report her findings to Dumbledore and my head of house. Giving Adrian and me a few moments to ourselves. "I can lie and say I don't know any of the unforgivables and they'll believe me because I'm a student", Adrian continued. "But in case they cast prior incantato on my wand, I need to make sure it doesn't show up in my recent spell history".

I nodded to show that I had heard him, but I didn't have anything to add to the conversation. When we had finally made it to the hospital wind with Fred and George tagging along, McGonagall had already been waiting for us. After lecturing us about getting sidetracked, McGonagall setting Harry with Fred and George to Gryffindor Tower; promising they would be called for if they were needed. And that left Adrian and me to wait. McGonagall refused to tell us what was happening to Lockhart or what the next steps were. So, what were we waiting for?

The hospital doors flung open; letting in an enraged redhead. "Mum!" I said a bit startled. Although I knew she would have been notified.

Resembling a tornado of homespun fabric and ginger hairs, Mum charged the bed I was sitting on. And I was in her arms before I could get another word out. She smelled like gravy and potatoes; giving me a good guess what she and Dad must have had for dinner. Her arms were like steel around me, but I didn't mind. In this instance, it didn't feel like a restraint. It reminded me more of a life vest.

"I'm okay, Mum", I tried to assure her. But I'm not sure if my words reached her. "Adrian got there before anything could happen".

Mum pulled back to stare at my face. Questions swam in her eyes like koi in a pond. She opened her mouth to release to the flood gates of words. However, there must be a drought because not a single sound escaped her.

This was one situation no parent was prepared for. "I'm okay, Mum", I repeated. It felt funny to be the one offering comfort when I was the one freaking out earlier this evening. But it wasn't what Mum thought. It wasn't what anyone thought. So, I had to limit their grief as much as possible. The blame for this deceit falls solely on me. "Nothing happened".

With a legal guardian present, things started to pick up the pace again. Adrian was asked to wait in Madam Pomfrey's office for his parents while the adults filled my mum in about everything that happened. First, it was Madam Pomfrey ensuring Mum that I was physically unharmed. Then it was McGonagall explaining everything that had happened up to this point. Starting with the detention I had spent in Snape's classroom. McGonagall even felt moved enough to apologize that things had progressed this far.

After that, the conversation turned to the next steps. Primarily my right as a minor to have a parent with me when the aurors came to collect my statement. And I knew that this night was far from over.


End file.
